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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610760">The Acaster Theory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/betabritish/pseuds/betabritish'>betabritish</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Off Menu with Ed Gamble and James Acaster (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:55:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/betabritish/pseuds/betabritish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You meet James Acaster at Ed Gamble's birthday party and the two of you hit it off. The story's a bit of a slow burner but after a while, you get closer and realise there's something more than just friendship. If you're just here for the smut skip straight to chapter 5 lmao</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James Acaster/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Party Prep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ed has been texting all day, desperate for updates. I mean, 7 in the last half an hour was a tad extreme! I'm in my room, sat in front of the mirror, makeup spilled all over the desk, when I receive the next one.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>*Bing* My phone lights up with the friendly chime of a text. I put down my hair curler to see who it is, knowing full well only one person could have texted eight times in a row. A certain Mr Ed Gamble. It was his birthday party tonight and, as his best friend, I was in charge of planning it. Well, co-planning it. This is Ed we’re talking about! The man who had a hard time letting people borrow his pens at secondary school. To be fair, his mum would buy him the really nice ones and there was no way Charlie The Chewer would be getting his grubby little paws on them.<br/>
“Sombrero dogs or the cacti family?”<br/>
He was of course asking advice on which of his ‘special occasion’ bow ties would be best for the do tonight. I can’t help but chuckle. His collection of bow ties has really gotten out of control since I got him his first for his twentieth. Flamingos. In sunglasses. To match his socks. What else?<br/>
*Bing* Photos! Perfect. Oh, he looks adorable in both.<br/>
“Well, this might definitely be the hardest decision I’ve made my entire life, but, the sombrero dogs have just the right amount of class and sexiness for tonight”<br/>
I chuck my phone onto my bed and get back to sorting out the bird’s nest that I fondly refer to as my hair. Ed’s theme was ‘Hawaii Fantasy’ and, boy, had I gone above and beyond. Most days, the makeup I do typically involves the words ‘bloody car crash’ but tonight I had created a neon sunset, framed with winged black liner and long, feathered lashes, finished with a clean-cut red lip. My hair just simply curled into beach waves and I finished it all off with a spritz of my favourite perfume, strutting through a cloud of plum and vanilla, like the sacred JVN taught.<br/>
*Bing*<br/>
“Brilliant! See you tonight sexy xx”<br/>
“Can’t wait! Let me just slip into my hula skirt and I’ll be right over!! Xx”<br/>
“Don’t forget the coconut bra”<br/>
“Perv”<br/>
I love this little freak.<br/>
My outfit for tonight is draped over the end of my bed like a weird fur rug. A bright blue Hawaiian shirt with flowers patterned across it, the same sunset yellow as I had used for my eyeshadow. This, paired with some blue denim shorts and sandals would be sure to make me look like… just about every other girl in the room. Ah well. It’s Ed’s party, not mine! Him and his beautiful bow tie were absolutely gonna grab all the attention.<br/>
The sound of a car engine draws my attention outside. My taxi!<br/>
“On my way! Xx”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Pre-Party Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You finally get to Ed's place and the two of you get your own party started. You're in the middle of drinks when a friend of Ed's turns up early.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hello hello!” I shout, rapping on the door of Ed’s apartment. He opens it with a massive grin spread across his face, “The party has arrived” I say, holding up two bottles of Malibu, reciprocating just as wide a smile.<br/>
“Finally!” He grabs my wrist and pulls me in “you, madam, are late!”<br/>
The rest of the guests wouldn’t be arriving for another hour yet but ever since Emily Buck’s Halloween party in year 10, Ed and I had always been pregame buddies.<br/>
I love Ed’s place. Everything is so modern but cluttered with home-y memories and colourful photos. He lives like a grandma from the year 3000. As I step into the kitchen I notice Ed’s handywork. Shots. A bit different to when we used to sneak sips from my mum’s not-so-secret, secret bottle of JD kept behind the beans, but still just as fun.<br/>
“Cheers Mr Gamble” We clink our tiny plastic cups and down our drinks. “Many happy returns!”<br/>
Just as we go to take our second shot of the night, the doorbell rings. Ed looks across the room at the clock displayed on his oven.<br/>
“Party’s not happening for another 45 minutes, who could that be?” He thinks out loud. A look of confusion strikes his face, mainly settling on his eyebrows which were so furrowed his eyes were almost hidden. He sighs and his face relaxes again before he gets up and opens the door.<br/>
I can only hear muffled voices but it’s a man. A happy man, clearly. They’re both laughing. This fella has kinda a cute laugh. Oh please invite him in, please. The front door shuts and the kitchen door opens.<br/>
“So, meet my good friend James, James, this is my best friend.”<br/>
As soon as the lanky, auburn locked man had walked in I knew exactly who he was. I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t. James Acaster. Of course I’d seen him on the telly, doing all sorts of panel shows and stand up routines. If I remember correctly, he was even on Bake Off!<br/>
“Hiya” I smile warmly<br/>
“Hey” God, a smirk like that shouldn’t be legal. What’s wrong with me?<br/>
“Love the outfit” He was wearing a tropical polo shirt decorated with a variety of bright fish with cuffed, tan, corduroy trousers. “Very flashy”.<br/>
“Ah thanks, your eyes look… cool” Some might not consider it to be the greatest of compliments but I’ve spent too many years perfecting the art of makeup to turn down any nice words. Right now, cool felt like the nicest of them all.<br/>
“Fancy a drink, James?” Ed asks, offering him a shot. Who could resist the temptation of a tiny pink cup? We’re all kids at heart.<br/>
“Why not?”<br/>
James had always seemed like the awkward quiet type on TV but with a few mouthfuls of tequila flung down him, he was like a new man; bubbly and chatty, like we’d known each other for years. I hadn’t expected to see a tipsy Acaster tonight but I’m glad I have. His hair ruffled, cheeks flushed, and his shirt slightly untucked.<br/>
The three of us talk non-stop.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Main Event</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The other guests start arriving and the party is in full flow. Special appearances from Joel, Nish, and Ed's mum(??)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We can’t believe it when the doorbell goes again, accompanied by what I can only describe as a tone-deaf cat’s rendition of happy birthday. There’s only one joker on the circuit with a voice as beautiful as that. I hope.<br/>
“Joel!” Ed greets his friend with an enveloping bear hug and ushers him inside. Good ol’ Dommet knew better than to come empty handed. “Booze and crisps!” He exclaims proudly, that incredible smile of his stretching across his entire face. Infectious.<br/>
It wasn’t long after Joel turned up that the other guests started arriving in packs. Very quickly, Ed’s whole apartment had transformed into a bustling beach; filled with gyrating Hawaiian button ups and inflatable palm trees, bouncing around with the rest of the room. You can always trust comedians to bring a party to life.<br/>
“Thirsty?” My new friend hands me a mysterious drink with a half open, almost sad looking, umbrella bobbing around, clinging to the rim of the glass.<br/>
“Mm… blue… my favourite” I say, laughing, and taking a sip. “Wowza” I hadn’t expected it to be so sour! James giggles like a school boy as my face scrunches up in response to the hostile invader of my taste buds. “Prick”.<br/>
Ed was nowhere to be seen. No doubt he was buried deep within the heart of the dance floor, previously known as his living room. The music was so loud, it was as if I was back at the club again; not that we’d been there for a while. I love that feeling. When the drum is in your chest. Like everyone at the party is sharing one heartbeat.<br/>
“So how come we’ve never met before?” I half shout at James, hoping he can understand what I’m saying.<br/>
He nods, smiling. Cute. But not the answer I was looking for.<br/>
I lean in closely to him, grab the collar of his shirt to position myself and repeat my question directly into his ear. When he replies he steadies himself by putting his hand on my shoulder and leans in close. “Don’t normally do new people”. His warm breath tickles my neck and gives me goosebumps all along my arms.<br/>
The rest of the night was a bit of a hot, sweaty blur. The highlight of the night being when Ed’s mum turned up and held an ABBA themed karaoke. There really was no trio better than Joel, Ed, and Nish singing ‘Super Trooper’ at full volume. Well, there was no one louder. Lucky neighbours.<br/>
“Bloody love Mamma Mia” I tell James, half out of puff after performing the best ‘Waterloo of my life.<br/>
“Oh, yes” he agrees sincerely. “Crap musicals based on a supergroup from the 70’s? My kinda film!”.<br/>
“What are you singing, then?”<br/>
“Me?”<br/>
“Yeah! You’ve heard me. I think it’s definitely your turn to shine” He looks a bit cautious but there’s a glint behind his eyes.<br/>
“Would you…” Uh oh, puppy dog eyes “Sing with me?”. I can’t help but laugh at his mock innocence.<br/>
“Of course! You pick the song. You can be the talent and I can be the eye candy”. I give him an over the top wink and grin, ear to ear.<br/>
“You’re on”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Clean Up Crew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All the guests eventually trail out of Ed's place and the birthday boy passes out on the sofa. Luckily, a certain comedian offers to help you clean up and sing a tune or two.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I set up for tidying as soon as the last of the party guests stumbled their way into a taxi at two in the morning. Ed had passed out on his sofa almost straight away, not even bothering to change out of his hawaiian finery. It was the most peaceful I’ve seen him all night.<br/>
“Got them,” James grins, holding up two gigantic recycling bags. “They were under the sink, like you said”.<br/>
Honestly, I’ve been round Ed’s place so much I know it inside and out; sometimes even better than him. I was so glad when James offered to stay and clean up. I had no hope that the birthday boy would be up to much movement after the rager of a party he had just hosted, so knowing I’d have some company while I make the appartement presentable again was a huge relief. Now, where to start? I look around, surveying the destruction, formulating a plan of action. “Right, how about we remove the debris,” I say, motioning towards the empty plastic cups and the other random litter carpeting the room “and then we could probably call it a day?”<br/>
“Okidoki”<br/>
“Do you wanna put some music on?”<br/>
“What about sleepy?” James asks, nodding at the snoring mess on the sofa.<br/>
“Oh, he’ll be fine” Nothing could wake Ed when he was in a deep sleep, especially after a couple of drinks. “Are you a Beyoncé man, Mr Acaster?”.<br/>
“How did you know?”<br/>
I was honestly very surprised when he knew all the words and, I’m not sure if it was the drinks or that he was just comfortable around me, but that man knows how to perform! And creative too. I mean, a used, rolled up napkin isn’t my go to for a Macgyver microphone but he was rocking it. I don’t know at what point I stopped filling up my bag but I suddenly noticed that I was just watching James strut around. My cheeks ache. Had I been grinning that much? I hadn’t even realised!<br/>
“I think that’s everything,” James says, putting the last crumpled solo cup into the bulging bag. He ties a knot at the top as he asks, “hungry?”<br/>
The crisps had sustained us while the movement of the fast paced party had kept us going, but now there was less chaotic energy in the room and my booze infused stomach was waking up, growling just as it heard the prospect of food. “Does that answer your question!?”<br/>
Very quickly, we settled on pizza, and no, not one of them big, money loving chains; a local 24/7 place that Ed and I had eaten at a lot. Pizza’s always a safe bet. Happy? Pizza. Sad? Pizza. Need some carbs to soak up alcohol after one heck of a night? Pizza. Can’t go wrong.<br/>
James hangs up the phone. He had been the one to order so that I could lead the zombie-esque sofa squatter to his bedroom and tuck him in. Honestly, I was one step away from reading the boy a damn bedtime story! “Well, that’s sleeping beauty taken care of! What do I owe you?”<br/>
“Ah, no, don’t worry about it” He turns away from me, almost embarrassed by his own chivalry.<br/>
“Shut up! Come on, how much?” I laugh. What else can I do?<br/>
“No, I’m serious” he smirks “my treat”.<br/>
In all honesty, it didn’t take long to convince me. What can I say? Mama didn’t raise a girl who turns down free food.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Life's A Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After all that bonding time at the party, you and James join together for an amazing night of pleasure. Truly, what dreams are made of.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Say my name”<br/>“James”<br/>“Like you want me”<br/>“James”<br/>“Good”<br/>He pushes my aching body against the wall and presses into me as we kiss. One hand squeezing around my hip, the other flat against the wall. I run both of my hands through his gorgeous hair then let them slowly trail down his neck, caressing his back. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss and breathes heavily where his lips once were, making me dig my nails into him, scratching him in desperation.<br/>“Fuck me”<br/>“Is that an order”<br/>I could tell he wanted it so bad. I could feel him getting harder and harder the more we kissed and grinded against that wall. I was already stripped down to my bra and pants but desperate to get his damn clothes off. As if he could read my mind, he pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it to land on the armchair on the other side of the room. I reach down to his belt and start taking it off, slowly antagonising him, making sure that every movement of my hands had purpose. Once it was unbuckled, I threaded it through each loop with one hand. When I got to his back, I pressed against him with my stomach as I swapped hands, giving him a birds eye view of my tits, turning him on even more. When the belt was loose I let it drop to the floor and got down on my knees, gently pulling his trousers down. He let a groan escape in his frustration and pushed his fingers in my hair, not tugging or yanking, sort of massaging it, back and forth. Oh. Oh! <br/>	“Out of those pants Mr Acaster”<br/>“Yes Ma’am”<br/>He steps out of his trousers which were pooled around his ankles and quickly removes his boxers, catapulting them across the room. Mmm. Seeing him there in full glory was really something. He is absolutely gorgeous. <br/>My hands moved before I knew what I was doing, gently taking hold of his dick at the tip and slowly pumping back and forth. Small gasps and groans escape from his mouth with each movement and when I look up, he is trying to look at me but his eyes keep shutting each time I get to the base and pull back again. I take my hand away, waiting for eye contact.<br/>“Can I?..”<br/>His grunt in reply was all I needed. I traced around the tip of his dick with my tongue before taking him in with my mouth, responding to his movement entirely. Now when I looked up at him his eyes were almost completely shut, rolling backwards in bliss, he looked as though he could faint at any moment. We kept going, faster and faster, my hands wrapped around his thighs, his entangled in my hair. A symphony of moans escaping both of us now, the vibrations from my mouth causing him to shudder in delight. Suddenly, he starts pushing back, thrusting in time with me, deeper and deeper. I think he’s about to… But before he can, he pulls away.<br/>“We do this together”<br/>I was already so wet that when he tucks his fingers down my pants, they glide around pleasingly. I go ecstatic when he gets to my clit. If he keeps going like this I won’t be able to hold on for much longer. Together.<br/>“The bed, now”<br/>Effortlessly, he picks me up, his hands cupping my arse cheeks, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I drop, back down, onto the bed and prop myself up on my elbows, pulling my legs closer to me and spreading them open. All I’m wearing now is my bra and pants which were now completely soaked through. James wraps his warm fingers around my pants and pulls them off in one single swoop. Bra next. Without looking, he wraps his arms around my back, pulling me in close so that our bodies are intertwined, and unhooking my bra. I can’t take it anymore. His legs were now in between mine and I layed down completely, looking up at him. I can’t help but bite my lip at the state of him.<br/>“Come on then Acaster, show me how it’s done”<br/>I couldn’t believe it when he entered me. So much pleasure that I have never felt before. I let out a half gasp, half scream as he drove his dick deeper and deeper inside me. It was slow at first, meaningful and loving. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him in closer, wanting nothing more in the world than to have this beautiful man as close to me as possible.<br/>“Oh god” he cries out, balling up a fistful of the duvet and pushing his head onto my shoulder, his heavy breath tickling my neck. The pleasure intensifies and we rock into each other, faster and faster, harder and harder, our hands exploring every inch of each other. The cries of joy only get louder and the bed frame starts creaking like it’s never done before. I knew he was close to finishing so I slipped my hand down between my thighs and played with my clit, writhing and squealing. <br/>“Fuck, James”<br/>“Wake up”<br/>“What?” <br/>“I said it’s time to wake up”<br/>Just my luck. The best fuck of my life and it was all a dream?<br/>When I woke up I tried to, well, ‘relieve the pressure’, but it was no good. It felt wrong and emotionless. It was weird. I needed James. God, how am I supposed to ever have a pleasant conversation with the man after I just fantasised about him like that?<br/>Luckily, it didn’t take me long to fall back asleep once my heartbeat had settled down again. Maybe I’ll have forgotten all of this by the morning. One can only dream.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Morning (Afternoon) After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After waking up a tad later than you were hoping to, it's a mad dash to get the flat looking decent enough for the visitor arriving sooner than you'd like.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Last night had been amazing, but by the time I’d got back to my flat, stumbled through the front door, and flung myself into bed, it was six in the morning and I was beyond exhausted. Tired me is useless. How do I know? Because when I woke up for the second time this morning I was wearing just the crumpled Hawaiian shirt and had more makeup on the pillow than on my face. God. What time is it? 1pm. Shit. Half an hour. I can work with that .<br/>I practically sprint to the shower to rinse my face of the cakey layers, which were now, for sure, sunk deep into my pores. The warm water trickles down my body and I shudder as the memory of my dream suddenly surfaces. Ew. I really disgust myself sometimes.<br/>Leaping out of the shower, I chuck my hair up into a towel turban and dash around my room, looking for any clothes that didn’t smell like sweat, booze, or greasy kebabs. Jeans? Fine. I toy with the idea of not wearing a shirt. That’ll give the old bat something to gossip about with her tennis club friends. Probably not the best idea. Not after last time! I spot a plain white shirt poking its sleeve out from under a pile of last week’s unwashed outfits, just begging to be worn. After a quick sniff and check for stains, it’s deemed good enough.<br/>20 minutes.<br/>Good. Okay. What next? A quick glance around the flat was all it took to answer that question. I set to work by either throwing the discarded, creased clothes straight into the washing machine or burying a selected few that was still wearable deep into the pit of my dresser. With a quick tuck of my bed sheets, the room was presentable, forcing me to tackle the kitchen. Or as I like to call it: the rest! I live in a really tiny flat, but it’s nice; it’s mine. <br/>10 minutes.<br/>This is looking achievable! Just a bowl or two to wash up and then I’ll be done. I do love my kitchen. It’s something I’ve always been proud of and I’d worked hard to achieve the cute, modern, farmhouse-esque vibe that I’ve got going on. My speckled, baby blue pottery that I found on a whim at a local craft fete being my crowning glory. Yes, I’m single. How could you tell?<br/>I grab one of the bowls closest to me and vigorously scrub the grime of yesterday’s weetabix off of it. Easy enough. I’m really not looking forward to the noodles from the night before that. Truly, there has been no proof as great as today’s that past me has no concern whatsoever for future me.<br/>*Ding Dong*<br/>No. it can’t be. I still have seven minutes!<br/>*Diiing Dooong* <br/>Seven glorious minutes, snatched away in the blink of an eye!<br/>*Diiing Dooong* *Bang Bang*<br/>Great. She’s early. And now she’s mad I haven’t answered the door yet. In a moment of sheer panic, I stack the last few dishes in the sink in the neatest way I possibly could; my own little leaning tower of Pisa. Pathetic. <br/>I use my last few steps of peace, from the sink to the front door, to prepare. Big, deep breaths. A few words of affirmation. I turn the door handle and say a quick prayer, fake smile plastered on my face. <br/>And there she is.<br/>“Mummy!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tea Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Your horrible mother has come to visit, full of stories about your perfect sister. If only there was a certain knight in shining armour to rescue you.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Darling you look… well-fed” My mother, ladies and gentlemen. A tiny woman, barely fitting half the doorway, who always dresses formally no matter the occasion. Today she is clad in  full monochrome, as usual, as if she’s trapped in a film from the thirties. I wish her voice was trapped there too. Well, her opinions would fit right in. A frightening image; her, stood there in a crisply ironed, tight fitting, tweed blazer and matching, ankle grazing pencil skirt. Her hair is grey too, of course, speckled with shots of black from her hay days and strands of white of future stress, scraped back into an almost painful looking bun. It’s no wonder she has so many wrinkles.<br/>
“Come in, mum”. My tight smile of dread becomes more painful each time she looks me up and down, surveying the damage I’ve done since her last visit.<br/>
“Call me mummy, dear. Your sister does”. Ah yes, my sister the super star; the girl who could do no wrong. I assume I’ll be hearing a lot about her over our tea.<br/>
“Oh! Sweet, little Bonnie has started waving!” Bonnie. My niece. Seven months old and already has more respect from my mother than I do. “Such a darling baby,” she beams, now stacking my arms with her jacket and handbag. God, what is in that thing? “And when will you be giving me a grandchild? Your sister tells me you haven’t been in a relationship since David. That was over a year ago now, dear”. What was that? Two minutes? Must be a new record.<br/>
“But mum-”<br/>
“Mummy!”<br/>
“Mummy. I don’t need anyone. I’m fine.” This conversation might just kill me. “Sit down mum-, mummy, I’ll put the kettle on”. From my safe haven of the kettle, I watch as she delicately pulls a white handkerchief from her pocket and dusts the sofa before laying it down flat and sitting on it. I hope this water never stops boiling.<br/>
*Bing*<br/>
A text? I didn’t think Ed would be awake yet. I reach into my back pocket and my eyes almost fall right out of my head as they widen at the sight of my mystery texter. James. My subconscious lover boy, real life Beyoncé.<br/>
-Thanks for last night, best laugh I’ve had in awhile. Let's do it again SOON!!-<br/>
I glance over at the stick figure of a woman perched on the very edge of my sofa. She was now tracing her finger along the woody ripples of my second-hand coffee table and inspecting the end of her talon.<br/>
-Tonight? I’ve got the feeling I’m gonna need a pick me up-<br/>
I sigh as I slide my phone back into its resting place and start pouring the water over the tea bags. Earl Grey for 'mummy' of course, I always get a box in when I know she’s coming. For a woman with barely any meat on her bones, she takes her tea unbearably sweet; it was agonising to put all four spoonfuls in.<br/>
*Bing*<br/>
-Yes! Why, what’s up?-<br/>
“Come on, it doesn’t take all day to pour a drink!” She almost spits the words out.<br/>
-My mum’s a bitch-<br/>
“Coming, mummy!” Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I grab the two mugs and make my way over to where the wicked witch of the west awaited me. “Earl Grey, just how you like it.” She half raised her eyebrows in approval, or maybe shock. One of the most prominent things when you look at her, the brows. So short and slanted they look as though they were seconds away from falling off of her face.<br/>
*Bing*<br/>
“Honestly, you’re addicted to that phone. Your sister and Mark are doing a technology detox, so brave!”<br/>
-Anyway I can help?-<br/>
A brilliant idea floods my mind. Bad, perhaps even manipulative, but brilliant. No. I really shouldn’t.<br/>
“Are you listening to me? I said, you ought to find a man like Mark. Him and Liz make such a sweet couple, and now with little Bonnie they’re the perfect family!” I share my location with James.<br/>
-How quickly can you get here?-<br/>
-10 minutes at a push. Why?-<br/>
-I’m in desperate need of a fake boyfriend-</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Boyfriend Material</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Time to tell your mum the news. But how will she react when James finally gets here? Has this all been a bad idea?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I know I have to catch her off guard, make sure she has no time to come up with any snarky comments that might throw me off my game. She’s halfway through her tea and now feels like as good a time as any to start spinning my glorious web. “Mummy, there’s something I haven’t been entirely honest about”. <br/>	“Oh, what is it? Is it your job? Well, I’m not surprised. No, really, darling. There’s always the next one!” Proud of her jabbing quip, she takes a long, slurping sip of her tea and any guilt I had before vanished. Poof. And before I can have a second thought, the words tumble out of my mouth, much jauntier and louder than I hoped, spilling over, as if I’m not sure where the accentuations go or what they really mean, “I have a boyfriend”. <br/>	Silence. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Where was the shocked gibberish? The obligatory, mid-drink choke? The fountains of tea spraying out from each nostril? This doesn’t feel fun. I thought this would change up the power control in the room, but watching her slowly put the mug down on the small table in front of her, it was clear she was still in control. Not fun. Terrifying. <br/>	“Who?”<br/>	“Hm?”<br/>	“Who is this mystery man? The man who is too good to tell your own mother about.”<br/>	“It’s nothing like that!” Of all the emotions I thought my mother would be revealing today, pain wasn’t one of them. “It’s just,” how do I put it? “His job,” yes, good. “He’s often in the public eye and, well, we liked our privacy, is all.” I reach over and take one of her hands in my own. I’ve never realised how small they were before. All of a sudden this strong, powerful, untamable lioness felt like a mouse. “He’s on his way now, he’ll be here any second.” With that, she snaps out of her own self pity and her piercing eyes freeze over once again. <br/>	“Well that’s hardly enough notice, is it? Honestly! Let’s hope this boy has more decorum than you.”<br/>It didn’t take me long to dash out of the room when I heard James’s gentle knock at the door, leaving the crone to mutter to herself on the sofa. “Oh, thank god you’re-”. Wow. He looks. Good. Really good. Corduroys, of course, typical Acaster style. But he’d smartened it up with a nice shirt and a forest green blazer jacket. It was also clear that he had tried to tame his lively locks with a gel of some kind but they were springing back into their natural formation, the edges becoming glorious curls once again. “here. Thank you.” I have to whisper. The old dear next door has surprisingly good hearing. “Not many guys would do this, especially after knowing someone just one night!” <br/>“Yeah,” he grins, leaning in and whispering back, “but it was a great night.” He peers over my shoulder and all of a sudden I feel embarrassed over the tiny box I live in. I was too focused on what mum would be like, I hadn’t thought for one second that he might actually look around the place. But then, his eyes meet mine and that smile of his stops me from worrying. <br/>“Come in, there’s someone desperate to meet you.”<br/>“Can’t wait!”<br/>And there she was, sitting on the sofa in the most uncomfortably rigid way possible, legs crossed at the ankles, hands placed delicately on her lap. She rises when we walk in, as if the greeting was staged like a ballet. <br/>“Mummy, I’d like you to meet James” I lead him towards her, left hand on his back, right hand around his upper arm. I felt like a farmer, leading his prized sheep to the abattoir. <br/>He reaches out a hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!”. With a long, poignet look, she glares down at his olive branch, then back up at him. <br/>“James, is it? Do sit down.”<br/>Sorry James but I don’t think I can watch this! “I’ll do drinks, more tea?”<br/> “Yes, dear. Now run along, I’ve got some questions for your friend, James, here.” I give him my best ‘I’ll make it up with ice cream later’ face but scurry off to the kitchen as fast as I can. There’s no point in both of us getting taken down by the Ice Queen.<br/>From my vantage point I watch on, terrified, as I try to make out the conversation between them. “...comedy…” “...podcast…” “...Kettering...” nothing surprising there then. I could tell mother dearest didn’t approve of his career, but she did seem interested, which surprised me. <br/>“I’ll admit, I’ve been told nothing about you James. Do you have any siblings?”<br/>“Yes, I do, and a nephew, actually” I’d better take notes, don’t want to slip up when the mumsy starts quizzing me later. Tea. I have no idea how he takes it. Milk, no sugar is the standard, but I know James likes a bit of sweetness. Do I put a bit of sugar in? No. Best not. I can always say I forgot or I thought I put it in. Yeah. That’ll do. Hold on a second, was that, laughter? Yes! I look over at the two of them, James with that amazing grin on his face, my mother with her hands covering her mouth, braying like a donkey. I didn’t think she could laugh. And even if she could, there’s no way I ever thought a woman that small could create a noise with that much gusto! I think it’s fair to say that she has fallen in love with him. <br/>“You two seem to be getting along well!” I chime in as I bring over the tray with the drinks balancing precariously on top. <br/>“You bet!” James says as he slips me a sneaky wink. “You never told me how funny your mother was, and it’s finally clear to me where you get your good looks from.” This is going better than I could’ve hoped! <br/>“Yes, dear, you’ve done a good job with this one.” She’s still smiling, ear to ear. Well it looks like I’m gonna have to marry this man if it keeps her this happy forever. There you go Liz. One point to me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Close Call</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When your mum finally leaves, you and James can't help but laugh over the madness of it all. But you lose your subtlety and James lets something slip!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I can’t remember the last time I had actually enjoyed spending an afternoon with my mum. It was clear that she had fallen, head over heels, for James, and that I was certainly in her good books.<br/>	“Goodbye you two, we must do this again soon!” She calls from her car as we stand in the doorway, waving back. As soon as the last, tiny speck of her is out of sight, James and I collapse onto the sofa, as if all the lies had exhausted us like a hard day’s work. I can’t contain my laughter as the thrill of it all suddenly peaks and I’m sent over the edge in a fit of giggles. I suppose ‘lover boy’ here is feeling a tad giddier than usual too because, before he can stop himself, he’s laughing along next to me.<br/>	“I don’t know how I kept a straight face when you said we bonded over ‘classical music’!” He mocks, pulling the poshest accent he could muster.<br/>	“It worked, didn’t it?”.<br/>	“Uh, no! I had no clue what to say when she questioned me on my favourite symphony! We could have slipped up then, if your mum wasn’t talking so fast!”.<br/>	“Yeah, I think you could have said Anaconda and gotten away with it” I laugh, gently pushing his arm. Still giggling away at our eventful afternoon, he pushes back, just as, if not more, gentle as me, then our eyes meet and lock on to each other. The laughter seems to slowly fade away, leaving us with nothing but silence. You know, if this was a film, I don’t think I’d have the choice not to kiss him right now. Listen to me! One little dream and I’m fantasising about our first on-screen snog. <br/>	I push myself up, way too quickly, causing a rush of blood straight to my head so that I almost need to sit back down again. “I should tidy! Can’t let this stuff get on top of you.” As if I hadn’t spent half an hour earlier cleaning up a week’s worth of debris from my flat. <br/>	“Oh.” looking down, James furrows his brow. “Should I-?” he points to the door.<br/>	“No! No.” Poor thing, that was the last thing I wanted. “No. Stay. We can chat while I wash. Maybe we should learn some more about each other in case mum’s on her A-game next time!”<br/>	“Next time?” If I hadn't looked up I would have thought he was confused, or even scared, but one glance at his cheeky grin tells me he had been hoping I would ask for a next time. I let a laugh out in reaction to his brazen confidence.<br/>	“Come on, no point in you just sitting there on your lonesome. You can dry!” Near skipping to the kitchen sink, I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and I am absolutely mortified. I can’t believe I thought I was being flirty when in reality I look like an oversized tomato, ripened to the point of bursting. How attractive. I run the tap and squeeze in a glob of washing up liquid, causing a stream of lemony bubbles to cascade out of the top, and set to work on scrubbing the last few bowls who’s cleaning had been interrupted earlier.<br/>	“Honestly, James, you seem like a pro when it comes to lying to parents”.<br/>	“Well, when your teenage dream is to be a musician, you get pretty good at manipulating the truth”.<br/>	“A musician? Did you sing?”.<br/>	“Oh like an angel” So swept up in the conversation, I forgot that, in my fit of panic earlier, I had thrown the tea towel on to the small wooden shelf just above the sink, where I keep all those handy utensils. The memory does however flood back to me as James comes up behind me with one hand on my shoulder and leans in to get it, pressing against me as he does so. Well. It’s the second thing I think of. But as fast as it had happened, it was over, and he picked up a bowl and began drying.<br/>	“But no, I wasn’t the lead singer. I drummed. In more bands than I care to admit.” This sounds intriguing.<br/>“And did these bands have names Mr Acaster?”<br/>“Well, there was Pindrop, The Capri Sun Quartet, the-”.<br/>“I’m sorry! The what?” How did I not know about this? <br/>“Oh, you’ve met my alter ego. Sir William Strawberry.”<br/>“Is that the good looking gentleman I sang with last night?”<br/>“Correct.” <br/>“I should have introduced you to mum like that.”<br/>“I don’t think things would have gone quite as well if she knew I was a comedian and a drummer. Nothing would get us back on track to that stable mother-daughter relationship you were hoping for.”<br/>“Yeah. We’d probably just have to start making out right in front of her!”<br/>*Smash!*<br/>Whoops. I’d definitely taken it too far. James hadn’t moved an inch. Just standing there in front of me, his towel encased hands still hovering around the air where the plate, now shards on the floor, had once been. <br/>“God. Sorry. I didn’t mean-” I start apologising but something in his eyes stops me. “I’ll sort this out” I say as I bend down  to gently sweep the shattered remains into the palm of my hand, avoiding the sharp edges where I can.<br/>“No!” He exclaims, chucking the towel over his shoulder and dropping to the floor “It’s my fault, entirely. Please, let me” He goes to move the smaller pieces I hadn’t gotten to yet, accidentally brushing against my hand. His eyes look up at mine, nervous he’s made things even more awkward but then they drift down to my lips and once again I find myself daydreaming.<br/>“Ticket!”<br/>“Hm?”<br/>“I have one. A ticket. For Wednesday, a show, my show. It’s just that Ed’s already coming so there’d be someone for you to be with and then I could show you around backstage. If you like.” He nervously scratches the end of his finger and it feels as though I’ve lost all eye contact from him.<br/>“Yes.”<br/>“It’s okay if you don’t. Even my own dad jokes that my comedy’s not for everyone but-” I touch his hand with mine, making sure he’s looking at me.<br/>“Yes. I would love to.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys, hope you're enjoying the story so far :) I just have a genuine question that I'd love you to answer. I know most of you are just here for the James and Ed content but how would you feel if chapters were devoted to exploring relationships with her sister's family and that sort of thing? Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Love Guru</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All flustered after James makes a speedy departure, you facetime your best friend for advice and it's very hard tell who was more shocked by your new found crush!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-Call me! ASAP!-<br/>If I wasn’t so concerned about my water bills, I would take<br/>an ice cold shower right about now. After we had sorted the chaos of flirting gone wrong, James had given me the details for his gig and then left pretty quickly. All I want right now is a level headed Ed Gamble to talk to. My phone lights up with a facetime request from him and I gratefully tap at the screen, a little more violently than a normal human being would.<br/>	“What’s wrong?” The picture is so pixelated, I can’t tell if he’s serious or just presuming I’m being my usual melodramatic self.<br/>	“Well, James was just round to help with my mum and, long story short, I now have a fat crush and a ticket to his gig so it’s a win-win!” Ed stares back blankly, letting the information soak in. <br/>	“I’m gonna need Charlie for this one aren’t I?”<br/>	“Yes. Thank you.” He disappears off screen and returns with a very confused looking fiancé. I fill them in as quickly as I can, explaining my way through all the weird, giggly laughter, my short lived time as a beetroot, and the broken plate which landed me the ticket and all these butterflies.<br/>	“And then he just ran off!” I finish, half out of puff from talking non-stop. Ed’s eyes have glazed over and, for once in my life, I have no idea what he’s thinking. Luckily, Charlie chimes in, breaking through the thick silence.<br/>	“Honestly, hun, James has always been kinda awkward. But it sounds like he was a little stranger than usual? I dunno. Ed, you’ve known him way longer.” She turns to look at him but he’s still knocked off of his axis. “Ed?”<br/>	“Hm? Oh. Right. Yeah.” I widen my eyes in exasperation. Ed has always been there for me. Since my very first heartbreak, he has been the one to help me pick myself up or sort myself out when it comes to ‘boy talk’. Protective. And I know it’s cliché, but he really is the brother I never had. So what’s up with him now?<br/>	“Ed! Please.” That got him!<br/>	“Yes! Sorry, I’m here. So you… you like him? God, I sound like a teenager. Well James has had crushes and girlfriends before, but I’ve never known him to act this weird around, well, anyone.”<br/>	“Well, what do I do? Should I-”<br/>	“Don’t text him!” Charlie interrupts me, knowing exactly how I’d go about messing this up for myself. “Now I’m not claiming to be a love guru here, but when it comes to James, I reckon texting would freak him out. Babe?”<br/>	“Agreed. Don’t text. Just wait ‘till Wednesday, we’ll grab something to eat before the gig and I’ll prep you. I’ll be the Goldmill to your Rocky.” <br/>	“Thanks guys. You mean the world to me.”<br/>	“Love ya, girl! I’ll see you soon okay?” Charlie grins at me. She pecks Ed on the cheek before waving goodbye and leaves the frame. And now there were two. <br/>	“Ed. Is this weird? I haven’t thought about anyone this way since David and that man broke my heart.”<br/>	“You can’t be scared anymore.”<br/>	“I know-”<br/>	“I’m serious! You deserve so much more than that idiot could ever give you. Listen, I have to dash, but I’ll see you Wednesday. Wear something nice!” He winks at me in the most over exaggerated way possible.<br/>	“Oh god, I forgot I actually have to wear something!”<br/>	“You’ll look great! See ya”<br/>	“Byeee!”<br/>	I set my phone down on my bedside table and walk over to my wardrobe which is bursting with clothes; half of which I never wear anymore but have become emotionally attached to. This is going to be difficult.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Poor Little Ugly Dumpling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You and Ed meet for dinner at your favourite restaurant and talk over your plan for what will happen after James's gig (and also survive a surprise attack from one of Ed's fans!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wednesday. Finally. The day I’ve been waiting for all week. I leave my flat about ten minutes before the time Ed and I had agreed to meet for dinner, my place being only a short walk to the restaurant where we’re eating. I love this side of London. Especially on a warm summer evening like this, when it’s slowly getting dimmer but the toasty air hangs around. Flashes of pink and orange illuminating the sky. On the short trek from the flat to the restaurant, the neon shop signs morph into sweet, lantern-esque lights, and the neatly arranged brickwork beneath my feet becomes a jumbled path of cobblestones. It’s hard to believe these two worlds are only seconds apart. And I’m here. The Ugly Dumpling.<br/>Ed and I have had most of our important meals at the dumpling. Celebrating our A-level results. Comfort eating after failed job interviews. Even planning his proposal to Charlie! I wasn’t shocked when he suggested it. He is sitting inside when I get there, as usual, not wanting to lose any precious chatting time we had before James’s gig. <br/>“Hey!” I say, walking over to the table he has claimed as his own. He looks up and smiles.<br/>“You look great!”<br/>I’m wearing a tight fitting, black, off the shoulder shirt, tucked into a high-waisted, cuffed pair of jeans. Nothing too fancy. But I do know how to make an outfit work for my body. My waist is tucked in with a thick faux leather belt and the whole look is taken from casual to ‘she might have somewhere to go’ with a pair of cute black heels which, honestly, had made the walk over a little longer than I had expected.<br/>“Sorry I’m late! Did you-”<br/>“Order? Of course. Who do you think I am?” Sometimes I think he genuinely might be able to read my mind. He had ordered a bottle of wine for us, which I was glad about. He’s always been a sort of connoisseur when it comes to wine whilst I’m more on the red or white level of differentiation. <br/>Our food arrives pretty quickly and we tuck in to the wonderful array of dumplings in front of us, flavours ranging from aromatic duck to cheeseburger. Both of us are quiet for a minute, enjoying our food far too much to acknowledge each other, until he breaks silence. <br/>“So,” he says, through a mouthful of satay chicken, “let’s talk James.” I had been waiting for this to come up.<br/>“Well. I’m worried that I was a bit, you know, caught up in the moment when it all happened. I don’t even remember most of it. I’m probably just filling in the gaps with the idea that James was feeling something.” I catch a stray dumpling with my chopsticks and take a bite. Strawberry? <br/>“Maybe.” He looks thoughtful.<br/>“What?” I laugh. He’s got a plan. Or, at least, he’s trying to come up with one.<br/>“I dunno. Might be a long shot?” Oh god, this can’t be good.<br/>“Go on.”<br/>“Well, we’re going backstage after the show right? So just bring up the plate and see what he says.”<br/>“Bring… up the plate?” I’m not sure where he’s going with this.<br/>“Trust me.”<br/>“I mean, I’ve got nothing better to do!” <br/>After finishing off what was left of our giant platters of dumplings, we split the bill between us and grab our stuff to go. James’s gig tonight is at Soho Theatre, about a ten minute walk away. Well, twenty in these shoes. As we reach for the door to leave, we hear a small, squeaky voice call out from behind.<br/>“Ex- excuse me!” Turning around, we see a small, red-headed girl, can’t be older than thirteen, clutching her phone close to her chest and looking up at Ed with a mix of admiration and terror. “I just want to say I really love your podcast!” The words tumble out of her mouth, without any breaks between them, “We came here because of your recommendation!” I look at Ed to see him grinning ear to ear. I don’t know how he copes with this on a day to day basis; if it was me, I wouldn’t leave the house. <br/>“That’s great! Did you enjoy it?” She nods, very energetically, looking as if her head is about to pop off her neck. “Good! Well thank you for listening to the podcast,” He smiles warmly, “Do you want a photo?” The nodding increases as she looks down at her phone. The two of them take a few pics with Ed working in a couple of goofy faces before she says goodbye and runs back to her table. <br/>“You really made her day, you know.” At the table the girl has gone as red as her hair and is showing her family the photos. “How are you so good with strangers?”<br/>“It’s all an act,” he laughs back “I just, I dunno, got used to it. Come on, that’s set us back a bit. Think we’ve got to run!” I loop my arm through his and use him like a crutch as we hobble together to the theatre, leaving the quaint little dumpling house behind us. <br/>When we reach the theatre we see a long line of people queuing up, trailing out of the main doors and it suddenly dawns on me that I did not bring a jacket. Just as I’m about to step behind the last person in line, Ed pulls me past the entire queue and round the other side of the building.<br/>	“With these tickets, we don’t need to worry about all of that.” An usher, dressed as what I can only describe as a poor man’s Mr Carson, shows us to our seats, fairly close to the stage. The theatre in its entirety is relatively small, but sweet. Perfect for a comedy gig. Eventually the whole room fills up with about 150 people muttering excitedly to one another before the lights dim slightly and the occasional whispers become far more hushed. All of a sudden, the room is awakened by an explosion of applause as he walks in from the left wing. It’s clear to everyone, James is in his element.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Backstage Pass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You go backstage with Ed after James's gig and finally get to have the conversation you've been preparing for all week.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The show ends exactly how it started, with the entire room coming alive with a booming applause, like the roof has opened up and clouds of thunder have come cascading down. James must be loving this, but there’s no sign of it on his face. Of course, I’ve seen him on telly before, but I really had no idea just how different his on stage persona is to the real James Acaster. Don’t get me wrong, he was brilliant. Just not the man I’ve gotten to know. It makes me feel… special. As if he trusts me with his biggest secret. I’ve met Sir William Strawberry.<br/>Ed and I stay in our seats, chatting, waiting for the crowd to disperse, until we’re the only two left.<br/>“So,” Ed exclaims, slapping his knees and turning to me, “you ready to go backstage then? James’ll be ready by now.”<br/>“Yep!” I respond by picking up my clutch purse and getting to my feet. “Lead the way Mr Gamble.”<br/>We weave in and out of the foam padded seats, the blue coverings now dull from years of happy bums, until we get to a door brandished with the word ‘backstage’ in faded gold. Ed pushes through confidently, but I’m a little more tentative. In all my years knowing Ed, I’ve only ever gone backstage once and it was enough to put me off for life. Being one of his earlier gigs, the green room had felt dingy, and the employees really didn’t believe that ‘friends and family’ deserved any respect whatsoever. Needless to say, I didn’t have high hopes for this tiny theatre in Soho. I watch as Ed steps in, take a second to prepare myself and follow. <br/>I’d love to say I was pleasantly surprised. That the carpet wasn’t dotted with ominous, dark stains. That there wasn’t a horrific, damp smell lingering around the sketchy curtains. That the spotty faced, seventeen year old guarding the coffee machine like a tasmanian devil wasn’t glaring at me as if I was the cause of all her problems. But suddenly, none of that mattered. Because, sitting there, on a small, wooden stool, is James beaming at me, and all those concerns from before are swallowed up by a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Before I can take another step forward, he quickly stands up and rushes over to us, his long legs seemingly halving the distance. Ed embraces him with a grand hug, compliments and praises spilling out of his mouth with each pat on the back, then he turns to me and I can no longer remember how to greet someone. My mind is so flooded with the social acceptance of ‘up high, down low’ that I’m nearly bowled off my feet when James wraps his arms around me. It’s a traditional, one over, one under, strictly platonic, about three seconds. Not that I’m over analysing this situation! But I hadn’t thought for one second that there’d be any chance of a decent conversation after our last encounter, never mind a hug. <br/>We pull away from each other and I can’t hide the smile that takes over at the sight of James’s flushed face.<br/>“You were amazing!” I exhale, giving his arm a cheeky squeeze. “I don’t think my sides have ever ached this much!”<br/>His whole face turns a darker shade of red (a feat I didn’t believe was possible) as he quickly glances at the ground and up again. “Ah, thank you. Certainly gave me motivation seeing you so close to the front.”<br/>“Could you really see us from the stage? I thought the lights would’ve blinded you?” <br/>“Well, there’s no chance I was gonna miss you.”<br/>I’m not sure he realises what affect those words have on me but all of a sudden each bone in my body is replaced by pipe cleaners and I feel as though I could crumble in at any second. <br/>I forgot that Ed was there at all until he grabs us both by the shoulders. “I’m off to the loo, you two should…” he looks at me, brows raised “chat.” Never one for subtlety is our Ed. He dashes off, giving me a quick wink before disappearing into the bathroom on the other side of the room. <br/>James looks at me, a confused but amused expression on his face. “What was that about?”.<br/>“No idea!” I lie. Blatantly. His green eyes rove my face for answers, which are about to come flooding out if I don’t look away quickly. The plate.<br/>“Thought you’d like to know I, uh, found another plate.”<br/>“Oh!” It looks like a million things are flashing through his mind all at once.<br/>“I like this one better, actually. So, um, thanks, you did me a favour!”<br/>“Well, I am sorry, no really, so let me pay. Please. It’s the least I can do.”<br/>“No! It was kinda my fault anyway. You know with the whole…”<br/>“Make out in front of your mother thing?” Now it’s my turn to blush. I can feel the heat of embarrassment crawling over each part of my body, turning me beetroot from head to toe. I look down at the ground, not wanting him to see my obvious shame, strands of my hair tumbling down in front of my face as I do so. Almost instinctively, without questioning his actions for a second, James reaches out his hand and tucks the stray hairs back behind my ear, sending tingles out from my neck to the base of my spine. His hand lingers there, resting on that sweet spot of my neck, and I look up to meet his eyes with mine. All of a sudden, the air around us feels heavier, each breath I take is deeper than the last, and I come to the realisation that the gap between us has become minuscule. Those words from my dream surface in my mind and I have to bite my lip to stop them slipping out.<br/>“James,” I want to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.<br/>“Let’s eat.”<br/>“What?” I don’t understand how chipper he can sound when I feel as though any noise I try to make would be clogged by the frog that I so clearly have trapped in my throat.<br/>“Friday.” His hand comes away from me, leaving nothing but a ghost of warmth. “I’ll buy you dinner. Seeing as you won’t let me pay for the plate!” Did I just imagine the last ten seconds? <br/>“Oh! Um, yeah, why not!” <br/>“Great!” He grins. I love that grin but, god, do I miss his smirk. “I have to go, but thanks again for coming, it means a lot to me.”<br/>“Yeah, of course” the words trail out, along with the feeling of warmth and desire. “See you Friday!”.<br/>James leaves with a quick hug goodbye and I’m left in the room alone. Well, almost alone. I’ve got the seventeen year old for company.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. It's Fashion, Darling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's finally Friday and time to get ready for the date that isn't actually a date. What a better way to kick off the night than with a fashion show with a friend?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’ve spent the last couple of days with the memory of James’s hand against my neck beautifully floating around my mind, almost as if I’m subconsciously terrified of forgetting it. The moment itself had been so fleeting it feels as though I owe it to myself to remember every little detail of it; from the way his fingers flickered gently as they grazed my ear, to the steady rise and fall of his chest in time with mine. Of course, I told Ed everything as soon as he emerged from the bathroom. He got so excited about the -ahem- date, he started squeezing my hands until the tips of my fingers started to tingle. We talked about it the whole time as he walked me back to my place, the highlight being when I nearly fell flat on my face as the bottom of my left heel betrayed me, wedging itself in between the cracks of the cobbled street.<br/>
I called my sister yesterday. Elizabeth. I thought it would be nice, seeing as we hadn’t spoken in a while, and I’m sure Mother dearest had already told her all about James. I’d say our conversation lasted approximately 60 seconds.<br/>
“Hello!”<br/>
“Hiya Liz!”<br/>
“Oh, hey hun, how’ve you been? -Bonnie put that down, please!- Mummy says you’ve met someone? -Mark can you get her?- that sounds exciting!”<br/>
“Yeah! It’s all a little… strange. How are you? How’s the family?” I forgot how hard it can be for her, a full time parent, and not just to Bonnie.<br/>
“All good! -Mark will you get off that game for one second and help me?- Bonnie’s just a little angel. Did Mummy mention she’s waving? Well I reckon her first tooth will be coming up soon, god knows she’s teething enough, I swear we’ve gotten through three dummies this week -Mark!- listen hun I think I have to go.”<br/>
“Oh okay. Well it was nice chatting!”<br/>
“Hm? Oh, yeah, you too. See you!”<br/>
“Bye!”<br/>
I miss her. We never got on as kids but since she moved out and left me with Mum, we definitely bonded. But now I’ve gone too. Escaped. I just wished we could talk more than a minute at a time.<br/>
Now it’s finally Friday and I’ve got to think about getting ready. Since my mad dash of a spring clean at the weekend, I really haven’t done anything to help me stay on top of the newly formed mess. I’m so used to my general disregard for tidiness I guess I just don’t notice it building up. But that’s not important now, right? I’ve got to focus on cleaning myself first. I draw a bath and add a splash of bubbles before clambering in, in the most inelegant way possible. I pick up my razor from its resting place on the side of the tub. It’s just dinner. Not a promise. Not even a date. So why am I shaving my leg? And- higher?<br/>
“It’s just for me” I tell myself and my bottle of shampoo. I don’t think either of us believe it.<br/>
Later in the day, after hours of excitement building up, I start the little fashion show that will help me figure out what I will wear tonight. But I can’t do this alone.<br/>
“Try the red one, very sexy.” Who else would I call on for fashion advice?<br/>
“I don’t think sexy is the vibe we’re going for here, Charlie.” Nevertheless, I slip into the satin folds of the deep red dress that I considered a tad too racy. Charlie was right though, the strappy number just covers the BARE minimum but it is flattering. Not for a sit down dinner though. I can tell Charlie’s thinking the same from the look on her face.<br/>
“Too boob-y… next!”<br/>
The next look is very similar to Wednesday night’s (hey, if it worked once, right?), skinny, acid wash jeans and a nice, flowing, floral shirt, with balloon sleeves.<br/>
“This one’s cute.”<br/>
“What is this? Church? Next!”<br/>
“How big do you think my wardrobe is Charl?”<br/>
“What about that khaki dress?”<br/>
“Really? I haven’t worn that in ages.”<br/>
“Worried it won’t fit?”<br/>
“Fuck off!” I put the dress on, mainly to prove a point, but I’m reluctant to admit to Charlie that I love it. Then I reach into the pocket and pull out something shiny that suddenly reminds why I’d pushed this to the bottom of my wardrobe.<br/>
“Is that...?”<br/>
“It’s nothing.” I clumsily shove it back into the pocket, hoping she didn’t see it fully. “I don’t know about this dress, Charl…”<br/>
“Look in that mirror,” she stands next to me and turns my body to face the full length mirror on the inner side of my wardrobe door. “Look at her and tell me this isn’t gorgeous. This is the dress hun.” She plonks back down on the edge of my bed. “We both know it.” She’s right, of course. Like Ed said, I need to get over what happened a year ago if I ever want to move on. Charlie can tell I’m starting to get in my head so she takes my hand in both of hers and makes sure I’m looking at her.<br/>
“Last year was fucking awful, hun. I will never forgive that man for what he did to you, but if you fall apart each time you think of him then he’s still got that power over you.” I can’t help it. My eyes start to sting and tear up but I hastily wipe them away.<br/>
“I know,” I say, my voice feels as though it’s about to give way to sobs at any second and I can’t seem to explain myself. “I know.”<br/>
“Come here!” She pulls me into a huge hug and I can’t help but giggle as some of the feathers on the shoulders of her purple jacket tickle my nose “Ugh, snotty” she laughs, pushing my hair behind my ear. “Makeup. Yes?”<br/>
“Yes. Please.”<br/>
She sits me down on the small chair at my desk and gets started on beautifying my face. She’s so creative and artistic, just really in her element. The end result really is a work of art, way better than anything I could do. By the time she’s finished it’s almost 7 o’clock. James will be here any second. Charlie takes a step back to admire her work.<br/>
“You look beautiful.”<br/>
I start to thank her but the doorbell rings throughout the flat, making my heart race again. He’s here!<br/>
“Go! Quick!”<br/>
After squeezing her hand as a quick goodbye, I fly down the stairs and find myself in front of the door. Deep breath. Already grinning, I reach forward and open the door to see him. He looks so good. Like a sexy geek, wearing a red checkered shirt, this time with the top few buttons undone. He hadn’t slicked his hair back tonight so it was still perfectly curly and fluffy. Does he know I like it better this way? Oh, god, he’s looking at me, I have no idea what he just said.<br/>
“Uh, hello… you! Looking good.” Finger guns, really?<br/>
“Thanks, you too!” He sounded like he meant it. “You ready?”<br/>
“Absolutely!”<br/>
“Great! Our taxi’s right over there!” Taxi?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys! It's so weird to think that I've been doing this for 2 months!! I think it's my only lockdown hobby that's actually stuck lmao :)) I just wanted to say a massive thank you for 500 hits! Whether that's the same person 500 times or there are quite a few of you, it's greatly appreciated and probably the main reason I'm still writing. Much love &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Shackfu-who?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>James is the perfect gentleman, even when you're a social wreck. Not quite the definition of a perfect first date but hopefully things work out in some way or another.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Damp cigarettes and beer soaked footprints. All London taxis smell the same to me. I guess I had just presumed that James would be driving us there? Maybe he wants to drink. Maybe he doesn’t drive because, well, no one does here. I don’t think I would even own a car if I wasn’t travelling around the UK so much for work.<br/>
“So where exactly are we headed then, Mr Acaster?”<br/>
“You know, I wish I was cool enough to keep our destination a mystery, but I’m really not.” He pauses for a moment, as if he’s really thinking over what he’s trying to say. “I’m… excited. Is that weird? I’m actually excited to take you to this place. It’s-”<br/>
“Wait, wait wait!” I gasp, fighting the urge to cover his mouth with my hands. “Don’t tell me! A girl loves a bit of mystery.” He’s grinning like crazy.<br/>
The conversation doesn’t seem to stop at any point along the journey, other than when the driver went over a speed bump as if he was trying to take off. Mid exaggerated hand gesture, I slipped, grabbing the closest thing to steady myself. It just so happened that thing was James’s thigh. We quickly brush over it with a couple of awkward laughs (and a very ungodly snort from me) and the chat flows again.<br/>
The journey flies by and we’re at the restaurant before we know it. The place in question? Shackfuyu. Of course I recognise it; Ed dragged me here as soon as he heard about it, as he does with every new, trendy place in London where food is available! But the look on James’s face... I make a decision. Perhaps not the best one. My acting skills are practically non-existent so I almost go straight into panic mode when James’s energetic words cut through the air.<br/>
“Ta da!”<br/>
I can do this.<br/>
“Oh my… God! Um, Wow! What… What is this place?” At least I’m trying? I think it’s okay though, James just seems to be too happy to notice.<br/>
“Welcome to Shackfuyu!”<br/>
“Shackfu-who?”<br/>
Shackfuyu. The best place in London for Japanese comfort food where, if you’re asking me, they have the best-<br/>
“Wait ‘til you try dessert, they have the BEST french toast!”<br/>
“Well, every good restaurant must be judged on their dessert menu, right?” I laugh. Please, Ed prepared me for James’s sweet tooth so I know exactly how to get the conversation going. But the way he’s looking at me now, it kind of concerns me if he and Ed have chats like this. His head slightly tilted to one side like an eager puppy, his eyes dreamy and focused on me. He brings up a hand and scratches the back of his neck, snapping out of his little stupor.<br/>
“I couldn’t agree more,” he smiles. From the way his feet are tapping around, I think he might burst with excitement if we don’t walk through the door right now!<br/>
“After you then, sir” I say, linking my arm through his.<br/>
“That’s Sir William Strawberry to you!” He chuckles as we step through.<br/>
The restaurant isn’t too crowded, just enough people so that there’s a warm bubble of atmosphere floating around the room, so we’re seated almost as soon as we step in. I’m sure James would hate for me to call him one, but how do celebrities go out? I feel everyone in the room’s eyes burning a hole into the back of my head as we make our way to our table on the other side of the room. Why is it you always trip when everyone’s looking at you? I feel a strong hand blocking my fall on my stomach, and another gripped on my shoulder to balance me back into a vertical state. It’s a good job I’m wearing this dress; red and green work so well together.<br/>
“Are you okay?” he asks, a look of concern across his face as he pulls out my chair and tucks it under me. What a gentleman.<br/>
“Yeah, thanks” I reply but my attention is elsewhere. All I can focus on is the waiter making his way over to us. I recognise him. Oh no. He’s served me before, almost every time I’ve been here. I can’t give in on my charade now! Maybe he just won’t remember me.<br/>
“Mr Acaster! It’s great to see you again. And you, miss-”<br/>
“Hi, yep, first timer right here, a shack virgin, you might say. Or not. If that’s too… weird, it’s a bit, hm- yeah. So, so, food.” I can tell from the horrified look on the waiter’s face that my big mouth, partnered with pure idiocy, has written me off as ‘odd’ by everyone in a half mile radius. Great start. He hands us our menus, slightly more tentatively than usual, and we order a bottle of wine for the two of us. I try to apologise with my eyes but, honestly, I think I’m only making it worse. This is not how I planned this evening going. Come on, I can still do this. Right?<br/>
“So, I’ve met your mum, love her of course, but what about the rest of your family? Just as charming?” Thank god he’s just accepting my awkwardness at this point. It’s a necessary step.<br/>
“Oh, just wait ‘til you meet Liz.”<br/>
“Liz?”<br/>
“Elizabeth, my sister. She’s the youngest but has always been mum’s favourite. Her husband’s a right piece of work though. Everything Liz has ever done has been to please mum, but she was just too obsessed with the idea of grandchildren to care about who the father was. You’ve got siblings, right?”<br/>
“Yeah, a brother and a sister, and a couple of nephews now. Charlie’s the oldest and, I know I sound like a nan when I say this, but he just gets bigger and more grown up each time I see him.”<br/>
We pause as the cautious waiter returns and takes our orders before scampering away to the kitchen. He may be scarred for life.<br/>
“Time works quicker on children,” I say, once we’re alone again. “They change too quickly! How old is he?”<br/>
“Um, must be about seven now.”<br/>
“I can’t even imagine a kid at that age. My niece, Bonnie, will be one in about four months and she already feels too old.”<br/>
“Enjoy it while it lasts. They just get bigger and louder from now on, until they’re seven and learn what bullying is.”<br/>
The dishes arrive and we tuck in to piled plates of japanese food, occasionally pausing the conversation for delicious mouthfuls. At one point James offers me a bite of his Katsu, -“you’ve got to try it”- loads up his fork, and reaches it across our little table towards me. Now I’m not a pro but making me lean forward and eat the food from his fork sounds very suggestive to me. The look he gives me as I bend over gives me shivers. The look paled in comparison to how he admired the pudding as it was carried over to us. A huge slab of fluffy french toast topped with a swirl of pale green matcha ice cream that looked like it was straight out of a ghibli film. I dig my fork in and as I go to take my first bite, I notice James looking at me.<br/>
“I thought you couldn’t wait to eat this” I say, motioning at his plate.<br/>
“I know, I can’t, but- I wanna see if you like it.”<br/>
“I’ll like anything that looks as though it could give me a coronary.”<br/>
“A girl after my own heart- literally.”<br/>
“Always the comedian, huh?”<br/>
“Oh just eat it!”<br/>
I laugh as I take a bite and almost audibly moan. God it really is amazing. James seems satisfied enough with my reaction and starts making a dent in his own dessert, his eyes shutting as he chews.<br/>
“Good?”<br/>
“Mm.” Well I suppose that’s an answer. His eyes open and he grins at me. “I could eat this for the rest of my life.” Our plates are polished in seconds and after a little tug of war over the bill, I finally give in and James pays for the both of us. “I suppose we’d better get you home, tonight’s just flown by.” It really had. It was almost midnight but I feel as though I could keep talking to him forever. As we walk out of the restaurant, he takes off his black jacket and puts it over my shoulders, knowing I’d be freezing as soon as we stepped out into the cold London air.<br/>
“Thanks” I whisper, turning round to face him, the street lights illuminating the tipsy rosiness of his cheeks. He reaches out to adjust the collar and lapel stepping closer towards me.<br/>
“There, very fashionable.”<br/>
“Thanks” I repeat. I lost the ability to formulate sentences as soon as I felt the warmth of his hands brushing against my neck. There is no doubt in my mind that I will be having some very strange dreams tonight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The day after I post this Ed spams his socials with pics of food from Shackfuyu. Coincidence? Lmao</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Kitchen Comfort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You decide you want the night to keep going and invite James in for a cup of tea. Let's hope he doesn't smash any plates this time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’m not quite sure how it happened, it was all too quick and I didn’t stop to think but there we were, standing outside my door. I guess I just didn’t want the night to end. It only seemed polite to invite him in for a cup of tea, don’t get me wrong, that’s all I was offering. Only thing is, that was an hour ago.<br/>“God is that the time?” James nearly chokes on his third mug of tea as he looks at his phone, “Sorry, I had no idea! I don’t want to be in the way.”<br/>“Don’t think you’re getting away that easily, there’s still the cups to clean.”<br/>“Didn’t think you’d trust me anywhere near a tea towel again.”<br/>“Oh, completely. That’s why you’re washing this time.”<br/>“Sounds like a plan, race you to the sink!”<br/>It’s so hard for me to believe that I’ve only known this man a week when I feel so comfortable around him. Just having him in front of me is almost soothing. Something else that shocks me is how easily James manages to make washing up look sexy; his sleeves cuffed and rolled up to his elbows, revealing his surprisingly muscular arms and his hands look so big and strong clutching my tiny yellow sponge. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks as the sight of soapy water trickling down his arm starves my lungs of oxygen and I clumsily open the window to help me ventilate. What was in that tea? <br/>“Come on, love, those cups aren’t gonna dry themselves!”<br/>Love. <br/>“Oooh, sorry.” I mock, hoping my joking tone hides how absolutely turned on I am seeing him take control of my kitchen. A girl with simple desires.<br/>“You know,” he starts, talking to me but still facing forward, focused on the task in front of him, “I honestly feel as though I’ve known you for years, which is strange because, well, people have said in the past, a fair amount of times actually, that I’m a bit, well, very, bad. At that sort of thing. Friends. Friends and… relationships in general I suppose.”<br/>“Well, you haven’t scared me off.” I smile, not that he can see. Why won’t he look at me? “Hey,” Half whispering, I set down the towel and touch his shoulder, lightly tugging at him to look at me. James laughs as he turns his head to gaze down at me. I can’t seem to place the look in his eyes. “You already mean so much to me, I’m almost pissed at Ed that he didn’t introduce us sooner!” My hand finds itself softly moving from his shoulder to the top of his back but the urge for it to drop even lower is unbearable. “Thank you. You’ve done more for me this week than most people do in their lifetime.”<br/>“I’d do it all again. Happily! I can’t explain it but just being with you, I-”<br/>“Listen, it’s late, you shouldn’t get a cab this time at night. I’ll set up the sofa bed for you.”<br/>“Are you sure?” I nod, smiling at his pure excitement over the thought of a sleepover. “Then I’d love that. Thank you.”<br/>“It’s the least I can do, really.”<br/>James finishes up in the kitchen while I struggle to heave out the sofa bed, which is probably older than I am. I trudge upstairs, knowing I can’t let James sleep in his lovely shirt, longing to just let him get naked, reluctant to give him the only set of men’s pyjamas I have in my house. David’s pyjamas. I know they’re only clothes. Clothes can’t hurt me. So why the fuck is my anxiety climbing at the thought of feeling that fabric again. The tips of my fingers linger on the door handle for a beat until I brave it, grabbing the cold metal with the power of a person twice my size and throw myself into my room. Shit. No! How could I forget that I left my room looking like a bomb went off in it? Mum always said my laziness would catch up with me one day and that day has finally come. In front of me, a colourful explosion of all my belongings, behind me, footsteps. James is coming up the stairs. Oh god, he must be wondering what’s taking me so long. Slamming the door with great urgency, my feet start moving at double speed as I grab as many limp, wrinkled clothes as I can and shove them into my hiding places. The sound of James’s feet grows louder, like a countdown to doom. I can’t do it. There’s just not enough time. I’ve barely made a dent! <br/>“Hey, do you need a hand?” I look up from under my bed just in time to see the handle starting to turn. <br/>“No!” The door starts to swing open and I fling my body weight against it, keeping it shut. “No thanks.”<br/>“Um, okay. Can I come in?” The handle rattles as he wiggles it from the other side.<br/>“Nah, no. I’m… um… I’m naked?” The rattling stops.<br/>“Oh! Sorry. I’ll wait downstairs.”<br/>“Okay, great, yep, thanks.” I push my ear against the door, wondering if he’s gone yet. Is he laughing? Yes, I can definitely hear chuckles, but at least he’s going back down. Well now I’ve got to change, don’t I. I’ll be honest I didn’t think James would be seeing me in my pyjamas so soon but I suppose now is as good a time as any. I chuck on some comfy joggers and grab the clothes for him, my mind far too focused on a different issue now to care about the previous owner. I make my way downstairs, as nonchalant as possible, but stop about half way down. I can see James in the living room through the open door, lying on his back with his eyes closed but a huge smile on his face. If you looked up ‘peaceful’ in the dictionary there would just be a picture of him sprawled across my tiny sofa bed, his toes dangling off the end, happy as can be.<br/>“Here you are, sir.” The pyjamas hit him square in the face as I frisbee them across the room to him.<br/>“Thanks,” his response muffled by the checked fabric. “Do you mind-”<br/>“Oh, yeah, of course.” I turn around, my back towards the only man I’ve been interested in the last year who just so happens to be taking off his clothes.<br/>“Oi, no peeking”<br/>“How dare you! I’d never!” I don’t need to. Luckily for me there just so happens to be a full length mirror in the perfect position. Well, almost perfect. I can’t quite see everything. But what I can see is beautiful. James always hides his body with big clothing but as he pulls his shirt off over his head I get to see the full extent of his muscular, toned back. His hands move to his trousers and I force myself to look away. I may only be human with certain urges but I’m no pervert. Okay. One quick glance won’t hurt anyone. My eyes shift back up to the mirror for a second but instead of the continuation of rippling pale abs I was expecting to see, my eyes are met with James’s, staring right back at me.<br/>“I thought you said you’d never look?”<br/>Shit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Jawbreaker</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As you try to wiggle your way out of trouble you run into an even bigger problem that will need more than words to fix it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oh, God. I’m trying so hard to understand what he must be thinking of me but the emotion on his face is just unreadable. All I know is my heart is racing now for a completely different reason and my hands are fluttering uncontrollably by my side. They grasp at the soft fabric of my joggers in a futile attempt at suppressing the movements. I don’t dare look away from his eyes, no matter how distracting the thought of James without a shirt on is, I can’t push my luck any further.<br/>
“James I-” How the hell do I explain myself? “I’m sorry, so sorry. That was awful of me.” I don’t know what to do. “God, I’m such an idiot.” Rapid fire apologies don’t feel right but I can’t help it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean- I didn’t want-” I think I might rip my own shirt off if he doesn’t stop me soon. “I can’t-”<br/>
“Woah!” James grabs my shoulders, centering me back in reality. In my dizzy blur of regret, I hadn’t noticed the shift in his expression and the confused yet amused smile inching its way across his face. “Careful you little weirdo. You’ll run out of air if you don’t start breathing soon.”<br/>
“You’re not mad?”<br/>
“How could I be? I mean, who could blame you?” He flashes his cheesiest ‘cover boy’ smile and flexes his arms like a faux Hercules. Relief washes over me like a destressing wave, permitting my muscles to relax again. I suddenly realise how hard I had been clenching my jaw as an incredible ache twangs throughout the entire lower half of my face. James notices the slight wince in my eyes and quickly takes another step towards me, the brazen confidence from my peeking now replaced with concern. The heat radiating from his bare chest bounces across to me, taking with it a musky scent of aftershave mingled with half drunk sweat. A tantalising fragrance that numbs the pain from my jaw for a bittersweet moment before rolling over me and the torturous throbbing intensifies once more. “You alright?”.<br/>
I go to speak but when I open my mouth a sharp stabbing pain shoots down each side of my jaw and all that comes out is a half-shriek, half-moan and my eyes widen as a last resort of conveying anything to James.<br/>
“Well that can’t be good.” I can tell that through his somewhat serious facade, he is dying to laugh. Well, I’d probably be laughing too if my mouth wasn’t locked in place. “This might work in my favour, conversation wise” he smirks, letting his delight slip through for a quick second. Another odd grunt escapes from my mouth and I throw a half hearted slap at his upper arm. “Alright, settle down, Quasimodo,” now not even trying to hide how much he’s enjoying this, “relax for a second, okay?” he says, his eyes skimming back and forth over both of mine, eyebrows raised. Before I realise what is happening, he has his hands cupping my face; thumbs under my bottom lip, pinkie fingers tracing my jawline. “I’ve just gotta..” his sentence trails off as his attention becomes fixated on my mouth, his fingers slowly massaging my chin downwards until I’m gaping at him. He hits the point where the pain kicks in, triggering a noisy expression of agony from deep within me. James’s eyes quickly dart up to mine. “Do you trust me?”. ‘With all my heart’, I want to say, ‘more than you know’ but all I can do is nod. “Okay then,” he pulls away one of his hands, grabbing my wrist and guides my own hand towards his shoulder, “this is gonna hurt,” he leaves my hand resting on top of him and cups my face once again, “so when it does, I want you to squeeze hard. Squeeze as much as you want. Ready?” I nod again, full faith in James’s warm, steady hands. “Okay. Breath in… breath out”. As I exhale he gently pushes down, freeing my jaw from its locked position, but creating such great pain that my eyes start watering. In an attempt to repress the urge to clench my teeth I clutch at James’s shoulder with increasing strength and urgency, but never once does his focused expression falter. “You’re doing so well,” he whispers, now starting to wiggle my chin slightly, the ache beginning to subdue. “Just a little more.” The motion becomes more of a rolling action as my jaw finally relaxes and my tight grip on his shoulder loosens, revealing red imprints of fingers, each tipped with small scratches from nails which have dug in far deeper than I realised.<br/>
“Oh my god, are you-”<br/>
“Shh,” he presses a long finger against my lips. “Best to rest your mouth for a while.” I raise an eyebrow, inquisitive, not sure whether he’s really concerned or just wanting me to shut up. “I’m serious!” he laughs at my suspicious expression. “Feeling better?”. I nod one more time but quickly reach out for his shoulder, tracing over the fading handprint.<br/>
“I’m fine,” he says, cocking his head so that our eyes meet, “Listen, you need to keep moving your jaw around, slowly. Just to ease you back in.” I do as I’m told without question, which James seems to be happy about. “Good. Now, pop the telly on. Get comfy. Do you want a drink?” Is it weird how much I love seeing James in this protective, homely role? I smile and start to open my mouth to reply when James cuts in. “Ah, ah ah! Charades from now on missy.” I roll my eyes sarcastically but comply anyway, miming filling a glass with tap water.<br/>
“Water for the lady, coming right up.” He starts to make his way towards the kitchen but as he does so I gently grab his arm, making sure he’s looking at me before mouthing my thanks as small as possible. “Hey, it’s your water.” I reply with my best ‘you know what I mean’ look as I can. “I know. You’re welcome. Now go sit down. I’ll be over in a moment-o.”<br/>
Sitting here on my sofa, completely silent, I start to think. About things that I haven’t dreamt about thinking of for months. About the future. About life. I refuse to let myself fall into these daydreams (perhaps just dreams at this time of night) and divert my mind with the TV, quickly turning it on to the first channel I see as James wobbles over, precariously balancing two overfilled glasses towards me.<br/>
“Here you go.”<br/>
“Thanks.”<br/>
“Does it hurt?” His face seems worried.<br/>
“Nope. You must have magic hands, Mr Acaster,” he’s grinning. “My hero.”<br/>
“Don’t mention it!” How very humble, although he does look rather pleased with himself. “What are we watching then?”<br/>
“Umm..” The TV is muted but you don’t need sound to see what mistake I’ve put on. “You…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Omg 1000 hits!! You guys are incredible! Thank you so much :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Memory Lane</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>You wake up all alone after one hell of a night but some of the details are missing. How will you get back those lost memories?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Early morning light crams its way into my living room, squeezing through the gaps in the blinds, shining beams of diagonal spotlights across my face. Before submitting to the wake up call, my eyes scrunch together reluctantly. I reach over to my left, but the pale, lanky man who I hoped would be snoring along in harmony to me had vanished in the night. God, my breath stinks. The soft, faux fur blanket James and I had shared last night gently slips off my body as I stretch forwards, using the momentum to push me up and begin my long and treacherous journey to breakfast. Wait. I never went to bed. The thought drifts away as I stumble closer to the kitchen, quickly drowned out by the promise of toast.<br/>A hint of muted yellow sticks out like a saw thumb against the sea of blue, altering my path. Tentatively, I pick up the folded post-it, my eyes still adjusting to the sunlight as I try to make out the chicken scrawl etched along it.<br/>“Thanks for last night, best sleep I’ve had in ages - J x” I stare at the note a little while longer, perhaps lingering on the ‘x’ for a few seconds more than necessary. Suddenly, a new, warm sensation is kindled within my chest and I can’t stop my half-asleep mind from wandering. Oh, shit. The TV. We were watching the telly. And then… oh, no. It was him. I put on the TV and, yes, it was James, performing at the Apollo. My hands rush up to my head, as if it’s the only way of making sure it stays on and doesn’t spin off my neck. How stupid can I be? But he didn’t leave. So what happened?<br/>Trying my hardest to think about anything else, I hastily grab a glass and fill it with water, praying each gulp will flood out the embarrassment. Mid-chug I happen to glance down and spot something that adds a few more pieces to the puzzle. A single plate abandoned in the sink. Remains of jammy dodgers scatter across the dish as crumby evidence, but all I seem to be guilty of is creating an awkward atmosphere. But he didn’t mind. James, well, he actually sounded excited. Delighted he could finally indulge in his own talent without having to be worried about being judged.<br/>“Ah, I loathed writing this part” I can hear his voice in my head “took me forever to get it right.”<br/>“Well, you’d never tell.” I remember leaning against the back of the sofa bed, taking in the image of James perched on the very edge, eyes fixated on the telly. He knew almost every word. The memory of his face crinkling up in embarrassment at an odd voice break resurfaces in my mind. <br/>I sink my teeth back into the present by taking a big bite of toast, generously coated in marmite. Annoyingly, in my distraction, I’d allowed the underside to burn quite considerably, the bitter taste of charcoal stopping me from getting through more than half a slice. I can’t even toast bread right. I wonder what happened after we watched his show? It can’t have been long; ten minutes at a push. So what could we have possibly done that wore me out beyond the point of walking up the stairs to my bed? Before my thoughts trail down a dark and dangerous road, I grab my phone from the counter and shuffle my ‘morning sunshine’ playlist. Time to get ready. <br/>Today is a big deal for me. I’ve been at my job as an events organiser for just over eight months now and I’ve finally been given my chance to prove my worth, perhaps at last receiving my well-earned promotion. Only problem is, my boss kinda hates me. Jaqueline McLeod. A woman who clearly peaked at secondary school and thinks that constantly rattling the ice in her coffee is a personality trait. It’s as though she feeds off the energy drained of people she humiliates in the boardroom. I refuse to allow myself to be added to her list of victims. Honestly, it got pretty close last time and I wasn’t even the one presenting ideas.<br/>I quickly decide that I can get a foot in by power dressing. Even if it doesn’t change McLeod’s narrow view on my skills, it will at least give me a dash more confidence for the occasion. A simple, white blouse delicately tucked into a knee-length, mustard, pencil skirt, finished with a slim fitting, black blazer that even my mother would be proud of. Despite having two hours before I even need to leave the house, I dress in a frenzy, scrimping on time like the Scrooge of seconds, desperate to hold on to as much preparation as I can. My breath becomes a little heavier and quicker as I stand in front of my mirror and imagine McLeod’s beady eyes burning holes through mine. I’ve never been good with a crowd. That was always Ed’s thing. Even when we were young, he would shine in the limelight whereas I was happy just to be next to him, protected. It’s what made our friendship so perfect and long lasting. But I’d never tell him of course. That mushy shit is saved for special occasions.<br/>“Thank you, Jaqueline. I have a proposition…proposition…” I glance down at the notecard in my hand “a financial proposition that will see an increase in both clients and economic value.” Both Ed and Charlie had helped me draft up my speech, Charlie aiding with power control and Ed purely focused on events based puns. No matter how many times I go through it, the words seem to float away from my mouth and the panic sets in. It used to be easier when I could just picture my two assistants sitting at the table in front of me but, over the years, it seems the placebo has worn off and my imaginary friends don’t help anymore. <br/>“Hey, missy. Nice skirt.” No. No! I cannot be thinking about you right now. I have to focus and if there’s anything that could distract me, it’s James.<br/>“Go away.” I whisper, knowing I’m only talking to myself.<br/>“No chance.” It’s like I can feel the warmth of his steady hands on my shoulders as I close my eyes, imagining him joining me at the mirror. “You’ve got this.”<br/>I open my eyes, only to see myself grinning in the mirror. I’ve got this. I can do this. Now I’ve got a new motivation egging me on. While this revelation may benefit my career it sort of side tracks my whole ‘single, independent woman’ life plan I’ve got going on. James is now working his way into every thought, night and day, and I’m starting to like it. <br/>The entire drive from my flat to the office is filled with conversations with him as I lose myself to the fantasy. He encourages me with flirtatious quips that I know he would never dare say to me in reality, but it doesn’t stop me. I must be going insane.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Pick Me Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After a tough day at work, you get a surprise phone call from Ed who is desperate to tell you something.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rows of cars in front of me swim laps across the road as my hands grip tightly around the wheel, knuckles whitening by the second. Each breath is a struggle, catching in my throat as air fights tears. It’s almost comforting; the cooling stream trickling down my cheeks, red hot with embarrassment. Or anger. Or maybe just disappointment. Yeah, I’d say it didn’t go too well.<br/>	I’m not entirely irresponsible, so the mum in me kicks in swiftly after my pity party starts and I pull into a garage for a good, old fashioned sob. Just as I’m about to tear open a second packet of tissues my phone starts vibrating from the passenger seat. I quickly pick up and answer through a mixture of shallow breaths and half hiccups.<br/>	“Hel-hup-hello?”<br/>	“Guess who!” I can’t help but smile a little at the sound of Ed’s cheery little voice.<br/>	“Hey -hup- Ed.”<br/>	“Oh god, so it didn’t go well then? It’s okay! Screw them, yeah? You are so insanely talented and deserve way better. Hey, are you free right now?” I sigh a little, realising I won’t be spending my time drafting up plans and leading my own team.<br/>	“Yeah.”<br/>	“Come over. I’ve got something I want to show you anyway and Charlie’s desperate for a chat with you.”<br/>	“Okay, I -hup- I’m on my way.”<br/>	Come on. Man up. Woman up. I determinedly wipe my eyes and start the engine. If anyone can make me feel better it’s those two.<br/>	The rest of the drive is much smoother in comparison to the start and I find myself quickly arriving at the Gamble-Jamison residence, powered purely by the desire to see my friends, who are waiting for me in the doorway. <br/>	“Babe!” Charlie comes running towards me as I step out of the car. She pouts her bottom lip out in sympathy and flings her arms around me enveloping me in a wave of her sweet smelling perfume. “Are you okay? Come in! Can I get you anything? Sit down. Ed!” She disappears into the kitchen, sweeping me up with her as Ed pops his head round the corner.<br/>	“Hey” he says, dragging out his words in concern. “How we doing?”. <br/>Suddenly I can’t keep it all in any more and all my emotions flood out of me in bursts of blubbers.<br/>	“She- she laughed at me and- and I tried- and she said- and they…” Charlie takes one of my hands in hers, giving it a little squeeze and Ed brings a glass of wine to my side.<br/>	“Don’t worry, you’re staying here tonight.”<br/>	“We’ll get through this together.”<br/>	“Thanks, you guys.”<br/>	“What are friends for? Oh, forgot to mention, James is coming round any second now” Charlie shifts her gaze to my face at Ed’s announcement. “If that’s cool with you?”<br/>“Oh, um, yeah, of course.” I hadn’t had time to think about James since this morning but now my mind starts to drift, wondering how he feels about last night. “So, uh, what’s the big surprise?” Ed grins his usual goofy grin.<br/>“Ah, you shall see.”<br/>A couple sips of wine later, the doorbell chimes and in strolls my favourite knight in shining armour, James Acaster.<br/>“I brought some snacks and a couple drinks. I didn’t know what the plan was but- shit.” <br/>The two overflowing carrier bags drop from his hands and land with a thud on the hardwood floor, the contents spilling out, but he doesn’t care. In a flash he is by my side, his warm, strong arms wrapping around me; one across my back, the other keeping my head steady against his chest. My eyes start to sting again and I feel his knitted jumper slowly dampen, but he doesn’t pull away. It feels like we stay there forever, in our bubble of silent understanding. Finally, he speaks.<br/>“Do you want to talk about it?”<br/>I shake my head, still nestled in his warmth. He steps back a little, taking my head in both his hands and looking me in the eye.<br/>“Well that’s okay,” he wipes my tears with his thumbs “we don’t have to.”<br/>“Uh, James?” Ed’s voice startles us both and James’s hands drop as we remember we aren’t the only people in the room. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ed look so shocked. Like he’s just walked in on his parents doing the dirty. Charlie, on the other hand, couldn’t be happier. <br/>“Sorry,” I sniffle, sharing a look with James. “I clearly needed that hug.”<br/>“Plenty more where that came from.” He winks at me then reluctantly turns to face Ed “So what’s the big surprise?”<br/>His face lights up and all the confusion is wiped away, “Everyone into the living room!” he declares, marching away.<br/>James and I exchange a suspicious look before following behind and settling down on the sofa as Ed stands in front, hands clasped, ready. Discreetly, James slips his hand into mine and gives it a squeeze. I can’t look at him. I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me. Each small aspect of physical contact sends my heart racing and rekindles a heat that’s getting harder to put out each time. I stroke the back of his hand with my thumb as a thank you and he pushes his fingers further against mine, interlacing our hands as Ed begins his speech.<br/>“I couldn’t tell anyone before, and trust me it was hard not to, but I’ve been working on something for quite some time now and it’s finally happening!” He opens the ring binder on the coffee table and holds it up, like a child at show and tell, a smile plastered across his face. The title is printed across the page in a bold, orange, font.<br/>Suing The Thames.<br/>“No!” James quickly sits up and leans forward, really taking in the three words on the page. “You finally did it?”.<br/>“About time!” Ever since Ed decided he wanted to make a career out of making people laugh, he’d always tell me that one day he would have his own show. And now it’s finally happening. “I’m so proud, hun. Well done.”<br/>“So how far along are you?” The binder is now being thoroughly leafed through by a very eager James as he continues to question Ed.<br/>“We ran a pilot. It went great. We start filming next week, set to come out the week after that.”<br/>“So soon?”<br/>“Ah mate they love me.”<br/>“Who wouldn’t?” Charlie slinks over and casually wraps her arms around her fiance’s waist and gives him a peck on the cheek. “My star. Now, are you gonna ask them?”<br/>“I’m getting to it!” I give my friend a skeptical squint and a nod to get the ball rolling. “Well, we want people to come on the show, comedians sure, but this show is about my past. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t… only if you both wanted to of course…”<br/>“Shut up!”<br/>“Would you…?”<br/>“Yes!”<br/>“Well then, you’ll need to clear your schedule. We’re going on a road trip.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. White Wine Drunk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Maybe it's the drinks but things seem to be looking up for you tonight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Can I get you a top up, Mr Acaster?”<br/>“Please, don’t hold back.”<br/>Ed had entrusted me with responsibility for his fancy wine that he had imported from France but, given my current condition, I’m not sure that was the greatest of ideas. After his special announcement, the four of us had squished onto the one sofa and binged some crappy reality TV show on Netflix that Charlie had been dying to watch for ages. But those two left to go to bed a while ago. So why is James still crammed next to me? My head is too blurry to think for too long about it, like the whole world is softly out of focus, and his warmth and the smell of his aftershave are so comforting I could almost fall asleep. <br/>	My body aches as the weight of being white wine drunk hits me and my head feels too heavy to balance on my flimsy, ice lolly stick of a neck. <br/>	“You okay?”<br/>	“Mm... I just feel so achy”<br/>	“Well we can’t be having that, can we?”<br/>	He spins his finger in a little circle and I do as I’m told, wiggling my bum round on the sofa so my back is now facing him. James takes a firm grip of my shoulders, the physical contact alone making me tip my head back. But then, his thumbs start working their way into my shoulders, deeper and deeper, massaging out each knot of tension they run into. I don’t know if it’s the wine or just the emotional exhaustion of the day but I can’t seem to hold myself back. My body starts moving in rhythm with the movement of his hands and I shut my eyes, focusing on each little squeeze of his hands, embedding this moment in my memory. All of a sudden, he digs in deep with his knuckles at the base of my spine forcing a deep and heated moan to slip out of my gaping mouth. Shit. The massaging stops. I whip back round to face him, cross-legged, reddened with embarrassment. Should I apologise? I don’t even know what to say! I could cry. But instead I just seem to… laugh? And I guess the drinks have worked their way through James’s system too because he giggles in response until we’re both shaking with laughter. I lean in, shaking my head in disbelief.<br/>“I… I have no idea where that came from.”<br/>He leans closer, bringing with him that delicious smell of his, now mingled with sweat that makes me swallow hard to refocus myself. <br/>“Hey, I’ll happily take it as a complement.”<br/>“You and those magic hands, eh?” My finger traces a clumsy line along his arm. “What would I do without them?”<br/>When I look back up at him something has changed in his eyes that sends a heat pulsating within me. A desire driven by that new, mesmerising look on his face. My breath catches in my throat but all my inhibitions are gone. Before I know it, my hand is there, on his face, stroking the strong line of his jaw. He doesn’t take his eyes off of me for one second. I feel his fingers, once firm and strong, now gently running soft drags from my ankle up to my knee. I want him. Need him. I wrap both arms around his neck, but quickly pull away, finally realising what I’m doing. My hands drop but before they can hit the safe fabric of the sofa, a tight grip fixes my wrists to the spot. <br/>The space around us freezes. It's just the two of us. Locked in this moment for what feels like an eternity. The heat within me grows stronger as I battle my desperation for him. He pulls a hand away, but I don't dare move mine, leaving it floating hesitantly in the space between us. In the haze, I hadn't seen him reaching his hand out towards me, but the sensation of his warm fingers against the back of my neck snaps me into awareness, suddenly breathing twice as heavy as before. Just go with it. <br/>"James-"<br/>"Shh" he uses his other hand to press a long finger against my lips, but the look he gives me is so much more intense than when the two of us were in the kitchen last night. There's a hunger in his eyes. He leans in even closer, pulling me to meet him in the middle; I can feel his breath against my lips. I can't hold back anymore.<br/>With both hands, I grab the fabric of his knitted jumper and pull, closing the last few inches between us and finally, finally, feeling the warmth of his lips against mine. It's slow and soft and perfect. I can feel him smiling into the kiss as his hands move from my neck to the back of my head, digging into my hair, gently pulling as he deepens the kiss. I want more, but he slowly pulls away, still grinning at me.<br/>"Wow." It's all I can manage to say.<br/>"Yeah." He pushes a strand of my hair back behind my ear. "I've wanted to do that for so long." <br/>"Well don't stop now."<br/>Powered by a sudden rush of adrenaline, I swing my legs around him, straddling him on the sofa. Without questioning it for a second, he grabs me by the waist and looks up at me with a mix of awe and admiration. It's really happening. This isn't a dream. This time, the kiss is passionate and hot. It's steamy. Sexy. I sink into his lips, running my fingers through his auburn locks; his warm hands dive under my shirt and rove my back. I trail away from his lips, planting deep kisses along his jaw and down his neck as he tilts his head back against the back of the sofa and a breathy moan escapes his mouth. It only makes me want him more. His arms wrap tighter around me until I'm pressed up against his chest. My hips start rocking and grinding on their own accord, changing up the speed as I feel him getting harder underneath me. He starts pushing back, following the rhythm of my lead, kissing me back, all over, with urgency, like he's refusing to leave one part of my body untouched. Suddenly, I'm being flipped over. Two strong hands on my hips elegantly sling me onto my back. I feel like he's devouring me with his eyes. I scan his form, my eyes settling on the growing bulge in his trousers. Throwing a smirk at him, I slide my hand from his chest all the way down, focusing on the change in his breathing as I start caressing up and down, my movements slowly getting faster and faster.<br/>"Oh my god". His grip on my hips tightens and his brow becomes furrowed as his eyes shut tightly. He grabs my hands off of his body, pinning them up next to my head. "Don't think you're getting away that easy." I shut my eyes as he begins kissing along my leg, pushing up my dress as he reaches my thigh.<br/>"What the fuck!?" <br/>James rips himself off of me, his eyes bright and wide, his hands darting down to cover his crotch.<br/>"What the fuck, guys!?" I can't bear to look up, opting instead to duck down behind the sofa to try and pull my dress back down.<br/>"Ed, I-" James starts, but I don't think he knows how to finish.<br/>I sneak a peak over the top of the sofa to see a sleepy eyed Ed Gamble, eyes just as huge as James's, mouth gaped in horror.<br/>"What… the… fuck…"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Round Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Ed bursts in on you and James on the verge of having sex, he isn't sure how to react.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ed, I can… we forgot… I’m so sorry.” James starts spewing apologies while I keep myself tucked out of view. His voice sounds heightened almost as if he’s choking back laughter and the occasional cracks in his tone are enough to set me off too.

</p><p>“Oh, you are unbelievable.” </p>
<p>I grab James's discarded jumper from the floor and pop up, leaning my arms across the headrest of the sofa “Ed-”</p>
<p>“And you! I can’t believe you! Come with me.”</p>
<p>“Ed-”</p>
<p>“Now!”</p>
<p>I look across at James, suddenly sobered by the shock, and quickly pull the jumper over my head. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out and I swiftly slink after Ed before he can try to say anything. Like a disappointed parent, mad that their moody teen came home drunk, Ed has propped himself up against the kitchen counter, foot tapping a steady beat on the tiled floor.</p>
<p>"Listen, Ed, I really can't explain. It sort of just… happened." I'm trying to stay serious but it finally sets in what might have happened if we hadn't been interrupted and a warmth ignites in my chest, stretching a grin across my face. I turn away from Ed, allowing myself to enjoy the heat.</p>
<p>"Okay," he sighs a deep, reluctant sight, "if I don't think too much about how fucking gross the idea of you two having sex is," he taps my shoulder and I turn round to face him, "I'm really glad you two are having sex. But, for fucks sake, the sofa?"</p>
<p>"Yeah we should've thought that through a bit." Even the thought of James back in the lounge has me itching for him, for his hands to go where they were only inches away from going. Ed can see it in my eyes.</p>
<p>"Jesus, you're not done are you?" He squints at me and I can see the cogs turning in his head. "Bathroom in the spare bedroom."</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"Well, I'm just thinking out loud here, but, it's out of ear shot, shower sex is great, and, best of all, I barely use that room so will not be constantly reminded of… you know."</p>
<p>My mouth falls open, realising what he’s saying. </p>
<p>"Serious?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, well, you better go quick before I change my mind."</p>
<p>"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I throw my arms around him for a second, just long enough to get in a quick squeeze, before crashing back into the lounge. James is standing in the centre of the room as if he's been pacing up and down since I left. We make eye contact and it's like it clicks. The heat is back as soon as his eyes darken, skimming over my body, making me wish the clothes would drop right off of both of us. I don't even need to leave the door frame, I don't think I could, my legs feel weaker the longer he stares at me like that. As if he can read my mind he comes forward to stand in front of me and takes the fabric of his own jumper at my waist in his tight grip.</p>
<p>"This looks good on you." His voice is husky and it drives me insane.</p>
<p>My left hand settles nicely on his chest, as if it always belonged there, while my right glides its way up around his neck, tracing small circles at the nape with my fingertips. </p>
<p>"Ahem-" Ed leans over the bannister, glaring at me.</p>
<p>"Right!" I pull away from James, catching his flirty smile. "Come with me."</p>
<p>Ed scurries away to his own bedroom before I can turn around to thank him again. I take James’s hand and lead him up the stairs, through the landing and into the spare room. He shuts the door behind him then turns back to me with those hungry eyes. As he takes a step forward, I hold out both my palms.</p>
<p>"Not yet." Knowing I have his full attention, I turn around and open the bathroom door and start the shower, the hot water already steaming up the room. Still not facing him, I pull off the jumper, and then the dress, the dress that had seemed so important this morning, and let it fall to the floor. I'm about to reach round and unclip my bra when suddenly I feel warm breath on the back of my neck and James’s hands doing the job for me. He slowly pulls the straps down along my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until the bra joins the collection of clothes on the floor. I still don't dare turn around. Instead, I pull all my hair over one shoulder, exposing the length of my neck, and he obeys, starting behind my ear and softly kissing down my neck, then along the lines of my arms. As he does so, he brings his hands up to my chest, taking a boob in each hand, squeezing and stroking in ways that make my bare toes curl and head slightly roll back. His chest is flat against my back now and I realise for the first time that he doesn't have his shirt on anymore. He moves his mouth back up to my cheek and I turn my face to meet his lips, my nipples begin sliding between his fingers as his grip becomes more passionate and hungry, but always gentle. The movement within me starts again. A steady rocking of my hips, pushing myself against him in desperation, until I feel a hardness begin to grow against me. </p>
<p>Three layers. I turn my entire body to face him and his hands settle on my waist instead. But I grab them, taking him to the door, and make him place them against it, above his head.</p>
<p>"Don’t move." I whisper into his ear. He responds with a moan and turns his head around but I take his chin in one hand, forcing him to look back at the door. I move my hands around his waist, finding the button on his trousers, popping it open, and pulling down the zip. Just as slow as he was with my bra, I shimmy down the trousers and he steps out when I get to the bottom.</p>
<p>Two layers. I pull lightly on the waistband of his boxers so they snap back against his skin, to which James jumps back round and grabs my wrist, pulling me in to him and laughing against my lips. I take the back of his head with both my hands and step even closer, closing the space between us entirely. I never want to stop kissing him. His hands slip into my pants, cupping a cheek each, and then pulling the fabric down. He doesn't have to pull them far before gravity drags them down to the floor and his hands are right back at my bum. </p>
<p>One layer. The bulge in his boxers is only getting harder and my desire to tease him heightens as I start grinding my now entirely naked body against him. He doesn't hold back. One hand stays gripped on my arse but the other comes up to my face, caressing my cheek in time with the rolling of my hips. He pulls his face away, looking me up and down, brushing his thumb over my lip so I don't miss his warmth while he eats me with his eyes. Before I can stop to think, my tongue darts out and slowly licks the length of his thumb and then, without breaking eye contact, I wrap my lips around it, sucking hard and slow, my tongue doing all the work. The moan he lets out is more of a grunt; a groan, deep and desperate. His thumb comes out, wet and warm, but my tongue stays with it, circling the tip. James, now completely ravenous, grabs me with both hands as mine slide down to his boxers and begin to pull them down, his hard dick making it almost impossible to move them. They drop to the floor.</p>
<p>Zero.</p>
<p>"Get in the shower now, missy." </p>
<p>"Yes, sir." God, he's sexy when he takes control.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Blowing Bubbles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nothing like hot, steamy shower sex to get the blood pumping.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The water trickles smoothly down my body, the warmth barely keeping up with the heat raging inside me. James hasn’t even stepped in yet. Ed’s black tiled, walk in shower is much bigger than my diddy little thing at home, but all I want is for the distance to disappear and James to be pressed up against me. I guess I’ll just have to make him come to me. </p>
<p>I turn away from him, giving my bum a little wiggle as I bend over, picking up a bottle of shower gel. Flipping the cap open, I look back at him over my shoulder and start squeezing the creamy soap onto my chest. The shower is suddenly filled with a floral smell that makes my head spin a little. Intoxicating. The bottle drops to the floor. He still hasn't moved. I’m desperate for him. I bite my lip in frustration and turn to face him. Teasingly, I allow my hands to glide over my own body, delicately drifting, not stopping in one place for too long. Then they settle. One grasped around each tit, squeezing and pushing so all the soap is sliding around between them, the suds collecting around my hard nipples. It works. He has one hand firmly on my waist and the other gripped around my neck. It doesn’t hurt, but god does it feel good. He pulls me close as he kisses me, deeply and powerfully, continuously pulling away and coming back from a different angle. Quicker and quicker. Until we’re both grinding our whole bodies against each other. I can’t help but moan as his teeth pull my bottom lip into a bite.</p>
<p>Without stopping the rhythm of our kiss, he walks me backwards a step until my back is pressed against the wall, the cold tiles sending shivers across my body.</p>
<p>“God, you’re sexy” the desperation in his voice makes me sink my nails a little into his back.</p>
<p>“Fuck me, Acaster.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t reply. Just slowly places one hand by my head, steadying himself against the wall, while the other floats from my waist, over my stomach, drifts down and clasps around my thigh. His breath is already heavy, like he can’t hold on another second, but he looks at me, waiting.</p>
<p>I nod.</p>
<p>The gasp that escapes my lungs trails off into a moan as he enters me; slow and hard. I lean forward to meet his skin but he pushes me back with his chest, taking my hands in his, and he laces our fingers as he slowly pumps his pelvis back and forth. He fills me up completely, each thrust more incredible than the last. His hands are suddenly ripped from my own as he slams them on the wall either side of my head and I grab onto his waist, not wanting the passion to fade. We speed up. His warm breath tickles my ear as it keeps catching in his throat and he lets out a loud groan as I start thrusting back faster and faster, running my fingers through his hair and giving gentle tugs to the auburn locks. I catch his next moan in a kiss, our tongues dancing between mouths. He pulls away then hones in on my collar bone, swapping between gentle kisses and soft bites. My body aches as I get closer and closer to the edge and our quick pace starts to become erratic as we make our way to it together; each thrust holding strong within me for a moment before he pulls out again. He shudders against me. </p>
<p>"Oh god… I can't… mmhh" he gasps into my ear and suddenly grabs me even tighter than before. </p>
<p>"James..." His name feels good in my mouth. "James…" I could say it forever. "James…" Each time he enters me. "James… you're gonna… you're gonna make me…"</p>
<p>We speed up again, forgetting rhythm, forgetting control, losing ourselves in each other. Our soft groans become screams of pleasure. His dick feels so good as my hips start convulsing. We go even quicker and harder, I wrap my arms tight around his neck as he scoops me up effortlessly with one hand, all my effort now focused on the delightful sensation building between us. He buries his face into my chest to muffle the noise of his loud moan, his hand gripping me even tighter, the vibration making me tingle all over. I try to say his name again but nothing comes out. James's shouts of ecstasy make up for the both of us.</p>
<p>"Yes… Yes… Yes!"</p>
<p>He slips a hand between my legs and plays with my clit, the deep pressure in alternating circular motions only intensifies the feeling and it’s enough to send me over the edge.</p>
<p>Joy. Bliss. Completion. </p>
<p>He wraps me up tightly in his arms and we hold in that perfect moment for a while, neither one of us daring to speak. His hot breath keeps grazing my neck as the air tries to catch up with his lungs. Not tired, but satisfied, I rest my head on his shoulder, smiling into his bare skin, not wanting to let him go.</p>
<p>“That was-” I start speaking but my sentence gets lost with each light kiss that James places along my neck and chest. “You are-” the bites turn into little nips as they inch closer to my tits. “Mmh…” I give up altogether, opting instead to thank him for the pleasure with my actions rather than my words.</p>
<p>With more strength than I thought I would have in me after that, I grab him by the shoulders and spin him around, swapping positions entirely. Excited by my sudden control of the power, I take his chin tight in my fingers and pull him close to me. I watch the water drizzle down his face as I taunt him with my lips, getting closer and closer without making a connection.</p>
<p>“Do you want it, Acaster?”</p>
<p>“Mmhmm” he tries to reach out for my face and close the distance between us, but I grasp his wrist.</p>
<p>“Patience.” When I let go of him, he does as he’s told, dropping his hand back down, but sticks out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “Shush.” I plant a small kiss close to his lips; a reward for his obedience. </p>
<p>Heart thumping in my chest, I build up enough courage to slowly go down onto my knees. It doesn’t take long for James to get hard again, the arousal having never gone away for either of us, and I feel the heat intensify as I start to caress it lightly and slowly. Looking up at him, I circle the tip with my tongue, watching the way he quivers and shakes in response to my warmth and I test the waters by lightly putting my lips around it and sucking slightly. This small action is enough to make him thrust out by reflex and take a handful of my hair in his fist to steady himself. I’ll take that as a yes. Without giving him time to recover, I take him in with my mouth, keeping my lips wrapped tightly around him, and pump my head back and forth in a steady rhythm. </p>
<p>“Oh my… god…” spurred by James’s mumblings I go even deeper, then pull away. Without his dick in my mouth, I’m suddenly aware of how much saliva I have. My hand back to pumping, I let the mix of saliva and pre-cum drip from my mouth, landing on the tip, and rub it along the shaft. “P… please…”. He begs. And I submit. Using both my hand and my mouth to pleasure him, I react to each groan that escapes his lips, speeding up in time with his movements. His moans are so intense now and his eyes are shut tight as his head rolls back to hit the shower wall. I can tell he’s about to cum. Now, just using my mouth around his dick and both hands digging my nails into his thighs, I work back and forth, faster and faster, feeling each tremble against my cheeks. He’s so close. Well, don’t leave a girl out. I join him, darting my hand down between my thighs, the wetness making my fingers slip and slide around my clit, but not once taking my lips off of him.</p>
<p>Finally, James shouts out and digs his hands deep into my hair as my mouth fills with a salty taste. I can’t keep it all in. The screams leave my body so much louder than before and my body is suddenly paralysed by the ecstasy. I can’t breathe anymore. I don’t need to. All I need is him. </p>
<p>Snapping me back into reality, he cups my head in his hands and I stand up to join him.</p>
<p>“Come here,” he wraps his arms around me, the hot passion now replaced by a soft, caring demeanor. “You, missy, are incredible.” I smile as he kisses my forehead. “Absolutely incredible.”</p>
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